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Treasure Found 
A Bride Won 




By George E. Card 

lustrated by warren B. 


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A Treasure Found— A Bride Won, 








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A TREASURE FOUND ' 

—A BRIDE WON 


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NEW YORK: 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

PUBLISHERS. 


THE CHOICE SERIES : ISSUED MONTHLY. SUBSCRIPTION PRICE, SIX DOLLARS PER ANNUM. NO. 122, 
APRIl. 1, 1895. ENTERED AT THE NEW Y^RK, N. Y., POST pFFICE AS SECOND CLASS MAIL; MATJE^, 


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COPFRIGHT, 1894 and 1895, 

BY ROBERT BONNER’S SONS. 

( All righta reserved.) 




A Treasure Found— A Bride Won 


CHAPTER I. 

L ate in the afternoon of a winter day in the year 
1885 I was sitting in my private office on Con- 
gress Street, in the city of Boston, lost in the re- 
flections which a drizzly day and a good cigar are apt 
to produce. I was running over in thought the past 
twelve years of my life, and on this particular day their 
consideration was not entirely agreeable. Graduated 
from a neighboring university with high honor and 
with a better education than such a graduation always 
implies, I had applied myself assiduously to the study 
of law, and with equal assiduity, during the ten suc- 
ceeding years, to its practice. A patrimony from my 
father, whose decease in my early years had been 
quickly followed by that of my mother, had sufficed 
for my general and professional education. Several 
lucky accidents soon landed me on my feet in the pro- 
fession ; and while my success had been in no way re- 

L7] 


8 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


markable, it had given me abundant employment, and 
an income amply sufficient for all my needs, either real 
or fancied. Until the day prior to that of which I 
speak, I was generally regarded by others, and, in fact, 
regarded myself, as an exceptionally happy and pros- 
perous man. But on the day in question I had, after 
much reflection, and with every prospect of success, 
made an offer of marriage, which met with a refusal, 
kind but decisive. My rejection produced at least a 
temporary disgust with all things. 

Suddenly the door of the outer office opened, and 
a voice, in which I recognized nothing familiar, said : 

Is Mr. Tremaine in ?” 

Turning with little interest to meet the stranger, I 
saw, closely following the clerk, a strong and compactly 
built man, whose face seemed to light with pleasure as 
he advanced, and who greeted me with the hearty salu- 
tation : 

“ Carl, old man, I am delighted to see you again ! 
Don’t you know me ?” 

“ I must confess I do not,” was my reply, as I gazed 
searchingly into the gray eyes and bronzed countenance 
of my visitor. 

He was of medium height, with the calm and alert 
air which especially characterizes the seafaring man, 
and yet with every feature stamped by the refinement 
and culture which books and reflection alone can give. 
Good humor, resolution and courtesy marked his whole 
bearing ; it, however, called to mind no one whom I 
had ever known. 

“ If you clearly were not acquainted with me, I could 
swear I had never seen you before,” I concluded, after 
carefully scrutinizing my caller. 

The latter laughed good-naturedly. 

True, it is a long time, some ten years, in fact, since 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


9 


we met, and they have changed me a good deal, I pre- 
sume. I knew you the moment I saw you, though, for 
you are the same old fellow that you were in college. 
Your characteristics had shown themselves even then, 
but mine hadn’t cropped out yet. My dear Carl, put 
yourself back a dozen years or so, and I greatly mis- 
take if Jack Harding did not leave some impression by 
which you can recall him.” 

“Jack Harding!” I exclaimed, again looking hard at 
the strong face before me. “ It can’t be ! Yes, there 
you are ! I see you now, old fellow, though, by Jove, 
I didn’t believe you at first when you said it. I never 
saw such a change in anybody. You know how glad I 
am to see you. Sit down, and tell me whither you so 
mysteriously disappeared, and what was meant by 
‘John Harding, residence unknown,’ in our class 
Triennial y 

Harding took the chair I offered, and seating him- 
self, said quizzically : 

“ Carl, you don’t seem exactly overwhelmed with de- 
light at seeing me. I felt like dancing a breakdown 
when your solemn old face dawned on me again. 
What’s the matter ?” 

“ Nothing in particular,” I answered, evasively ; for, 
much as I esteemed my old-time college friend, I could 
not bring myself to the point of confessing that I had 
been jilted. “ I am merely having one of my old turns 
— it has become a habit now — of feeling confoundedly 
blue and sick without any reason therefor. Now tell 
me where in the world you have been and what you 
have done with yourself these last ten years.” 




CHAPTER II. 

“ It ’s a rather queer story/' said my friend, as he ar- 
ranged himself comfortably in an easy-chair ; “ but I 
may as well say, to begin with, that I am rather glad 
to find that you are a little out of sorts with yourself 
and the world. So far as I am concerned, I think I 
can see the guiding hand of Providence in it. You will 
agree with me when you hear my story. We graduated, 
you know, in 1873, and I had expected, after enjoying 
myself around awhile, to study some profession, though 
I could never quite make up my mind what, marry and 
settle down to a comfortably luxurious life in my native 
city. It was also commonly supposed — a supposition 
shared by myself along with others — that I was very rich. 
One person knew the contrary, however, to wit, as you 
lawyers say, the guardian of my sister and myself. 
When I arranged to have a settlement with that gentle- 
man, soon after our graduation, I found that he had 
suddenly left for parts unknown, as had, also, the fortune 
accumulated by my father. Something like twenty thou- 
sand dollars was left of the wreck. My sister, who was 
considerably older than I, had married a wealthy man, 
and so I didn’t hesitate to take my share of the money, 
and thus I found myself facing the world with a few 
thousands instead of a million. As you can imagine, 
[10] 



A tftEASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WOJJ. 


11 


this change in my fortune produced even a more start- 
ling change in the world and my relations to it. I had 
looked forward to a life of pleasure and ease, varied 
by an occasional and limited amount of work. The 
conditions were now exactly reversed. However, I did 
not care to have everybody know the truth of the de- 
falcation. My father was a merchant and shipowner, 
but my grandfather had been a sailor from his earliest 
youth, until, in old age, he had been brought home to 
die of the hardships incurred after a shipwreck. I must 
have inherited my grandfather’s disposition, for I had 
always been crazy to follow the sea, although, of course, 
as a prospective millionaire, I never seriously enter- 
tained the idea. But now, with my money gone and 
no ties to keep me at home, there was nothing to pre- 
vent. Telling my friends that I was going to travel 
for a time, and taking the remnant of my property, I 
went by steamer to Liverpool, and there shipped be- 
fore the mast in- a ship called the Tigris^hound for Cal- 
cutta. 

“ That voyage ought to have cured me, for the vessel 
was a wretched old hulk, her officers a set of tyrants, 
and the crew as vicious a band of scoundrels as ever 
entered a forecastle. A hundred times I cursed my 
folly, but as I was physically well fitted for the life, 
and many of its features charmed me, I have knocked 
about the world ever since as a sailor. I understood 
the theory of navigation very well before leaving col- 
lege, and, of course, I had now ample opportunity to 
see its practical application. As I kept sober, and 
didn’t make a fool of myself in general, as most sailors 
do, I soon got a chance to leave the forecastle, and for 
the past five years I have been chief officer of various 
crafts, and it was only two weeks ago that 1 reached 
Boston from Melbourne.” 


12 


A tkfiAStJRE POUND — A feRlDE WON, 


“ Well,” said I, at last, “ I hope you have come home 
at last to let your friends show you that you are as dear 
to them as ever, and to resume the comforts and con- 
veniences of civilized life. The land can offer a man 
like you more than the sea.” 

The old inimitable, affectionate smile, that had made 
Harding beloved by all who knew him, wreathed his 
pleasant face as he said : 

I like the sea, and should never want to be out of 
hailing distance from it ; but, to tell the truth, I am 
going to return to civilization — that is, if you will help 
me in the struggle. I decided to do so some six months 
ago. You haven’t heard the end of my yarn yet. The 
really curious part is yet to come. About a year 
ago I sailed from San Francisco as first mate of a bark 
called the U^icle John^ bound for Melbourne. We ran 
into a hurricane, which drove us out of our course and 
our reckoning as well. A heavy sea finally boarded us, 
sweeping the decks and straining the bark, causing her 
to leak badly, and we were compelled to abandon her. 
We left in two boats, one in command of the skipper, 
who had all the nautical instruments, while I was in 
charge of the other. We became separated in the 
night, and I have heardmothing from the captain’s boat 
since. My own boat at last reached a small island, where 
we remained some weeks, hoping to be taken off by a 
passing vessel. None appeared, however ; and as the 
products and climate of the island indicated an ex- 
tremely southern location, out of the ordinary route of 
vessels, we repaired our boat, and, with a fresh supply 
of food and water, put to sea again. After sailing 
north for over a week, we fell in with a Dutch trader, 
bound for Melbourne, to which port we were carried. 
As you may imagine, we explored the island very 
thoroughly, and then I made a discovery at which you 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


13 


are in duty bound to laugh, but of the truth of which I 
hope to convince you by personal observation. Don't 
interrupt, my dear fellow. Just hear me out. On the 
northern side of the island was a large hollow tree. 
Near by flowed the only spring of fresh water to be 
found. We had been compelled to land on the southern 
shore on account of breakers, and the camp was there. 

‘‘ Going to the spring one day, a shower of unusual 
violence came up, and thinking that the hollow in the 
tree was large enough to afford me shelter, I stepped 
in. Suddenly the ground gave way beneath me, and I 
fell some distance, striking heavily in the wet ooze be- 
low. I recovered my feet in confusion and alarm. 
Above was a glimmer of light from the hole through 
which I had fallen. I felt about me, and my hands en- 
countered damp walls of earth. I was standing in mud 
some inches deep, and concluding that the cavity had 
been made by the action of water, I struck a match 
to see how I could best get out. But the light revealed 
a spectacle which banished all thoughts of extricating 
myself. In one corner of the cavity stood a strongly- 
built bin. The boards on the outside had rotted away, 
and there, poured out of the compartment, lay a huge 
pile of golden coins. They were tarnished with age, 
and covered with damp mold, but the stamp of the gov- 
ernment of Spain clearly showed them to be old Span- 
ish doubloons. The match went out as I gazed. Hastily 
I lighted one after another until I had examined the 
whole apartment and formed some nation of the value 
of the wealth before me. The place had evidently been 
undisturbed for many years. A musket of antique 
fashion, the woodwork of which had completely fallen 
away, stood in one corner ; near it lay several rusty 
cutlasses. I judged that the cave had been the hiding- 
place of buccaneers, long since sent to their last ac- 


14 


A TREASURE FOUND — A RRlDE WON. 


count by some English man-of-war. Here they had 
stored their infamous gain, gathered from the depths 
of many ill-fated merchantmen. And here, for two 
centuries, perhaps, the golden spoil had lain, and my 
eyes were the first to behold it. The love of money 
seldom dies in a man, and I, who had been indifferent 
to the loss of my fortune, was now overjoyed at this 
discovery. 

“ With a good deal of difficulty, I managed to pull 
myself up the steep embankment of the cave, aided by 
the projecting roots of the tree, and rejoined my com- 
panions. My plan was to escape' from the island, and, 
returning at the earliest opportunity, to remove my 
newly found treasure. It is needless to say that I did 
not mention my adventure to the sailors. You know 
the rest up to the time of my arrival in Melbourne. I 
had decided to return to Boston at once, buy a small 
vessel, and set out for the island. As I was standing 
on one of the docks, a day or two after landing, on the 
lookout for a chance to ship for America, a gentleman 
who had been closely scrutinizing me for some time, 
stepped up and said : ‘ Pardon me, sir, but is not your 
name Harding?’ 

“ * It is,’ I answered. 

“ ‘ You are the son of Henry Harding, of Boston, I 
cannot doubt.’ 

* Henry Harding was my father. Did you know 
him ?’ was my reply. 

“ * He was my friend for years ; and I saw you a long 
time ago, when you were a little boy, in the city of 
Boston, where I was your father’s guest. My name is 
Winter.’ 

I at once recalled the name of the man, who had 
formerly been one of my father’s closest intimates, but 
whose removal to this distant region had caused the 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


15 


acquaintanceship to flag. Mr. Winter insisted on sup-, 
plying all my wants and on my making his house my 
home so long as I remained in Melbourne. There I 
met his daughter, Florence. It is the same old story, 
Carl. I came ; I saw ; I loved. I had voluntarily ex- 
iled myself from feminine society for years, but Flor- 
ence Winter might well have inspired the enthusiastic 
love of a society worn and misanthropic man. Such 
was far from being my disposition, however. A sea- 
man’s life makes one simple and sincere, and my heart 
leaped out to Florence the moment I saw her. She is 
a fair-haired little Saxon, with a blue eye, a tender lip, 
a neck like that of a Grecian goddess, and the most 
loving smile that ever mirrored a true soul and a de- 
voted heart. I told her my love, and she promised to 
be my wife. I went at once to her father. He was 
much distressed when I made known my errand. 

“ ‘ A sailor should never be a husband, and you have 
no other means of living,’ was the substance of his ob- 
jection. 

“ Then I told my intended father-in-law of my find 
when on the island, and at last convinced him that 
there was something in it. Finally the old gentleman, 
who is a widower and fairly idolizes Florence — one 
point on which we found ourselves fully in accord — 
said : 

“‘Young man, when you can comfortably support 
my daughter in a life ashore, you can marry her ; not 
till then.” 

“ I at once agreed to the condition, which was fair 
enough, of course ; and within three days I again found 
myself on blue water, as first mate of the ship Ava^ 
bound for Boston, and here I am.” 



CHAPTER III. 

‘‘Your story is strange enough, in all conscience,** 
said I, with a long breath of astonishment ; “ but I 
can’t help wondering what you came to Boston for. 
Why didn’t you send for your money, fit out your craft, 
and start from Australia, instead of coming half way 
round the world to begin with 

“ A natural question, certainly,” was my companion’s 
smiling response, “ but one easily answered. I came 
to Boston for two reasons. First, to find out where the 
island is, and secondly to get a suitable assistant to aid 
me in the recovery of the treasure.” 

“ But how do you expect to find its location in Bos- 
ton?” I interrupted. “We are said to know a great 
deal here, but locating fabulous treasures on desert 
islands is a trifle out of the Bostonian’s usual line.” 

“ Laugh away, my dear fellow,” returned Harding, 
“ but listen : About fifty years ago, my grandfather 
was on this very island and saw the treasure. On his 
last voyage his ship took fire and they had to abandon 
her. As we subsequently learned from the sailor who, 
besides my grandfather, was the only survivor, they 
reached an island, where they renewed their supply of 
water and then put to sea again. They were finally 
picked up, but in a frightful condition. All the men 
[16] 


MORGAN (fAVK MK AX INSOLKNT KOOK.— ,SV.^ Page 40 







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A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 17 

but two had either died of thirst or in madness flung 
themselves overboard. My grandfather and one other 
seaman were still alive. The former was brought 
home to Boston, but his mind was shattered by his suf- 
ferings, and shortly after his arrival he died an imbe- 
cile. Among the papers found about his person was a 
hastily-scrawled memorandum, which I want you to 
examine.” 

He took a water-stained scrap of paper from his 
pocket and handed it to me. It read as follows : 

** Abandoned ship Raven on July 9, 1835, in latitude 50^ 
south, longitude 60® east. Sailed with steady wind, south- 
southeast, for two days, when we reached a small, uninhabited 
island. Here I, by accident, discovered a cave near the foot of a 
tree on the north shore, in which there was concealed a large 
quantity of gold. It will make me a rich man if I can recover it.” 

The writing was badly blurred, and was covered with 
aimless marks and scratches, as though an attempt had 
been made to conceal or obliterate it. 

“ When my grandfather’s papers were examined, 
after his rescue,” said Harding, “ this was found^among 
them. It excited some discussion, but my father’s con- 
clusion was that it was written after he had left the 
island, when his mind was deranged, and that it merely 
represented a vagary of an unbalanced intellect. When 
a boy, I had heard my father tell the story, but I gave 
little heed to the conversation. The moment, however, 
I struck the match in the cave and saw the money, it 
flashed upon me that I was on the very spot where my 
grandfather had stood years ago. I knew where his 
papers were in Boston, and that this memorandum was 
among them. For that reason I was ready to leave the 
island without knowing its location, as I had the means 
of finding it. I came to Boston to get that paper. I now 
intend to take a vessel to latitude 50® south, longitude 


18 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


6o® east, head her south-southwest, and within two 
days I have no doubt that I shall sight the treasure 
island. More than that, I want you to take the little 
journey with me.” 

I could not repress an ejaculation of amused disgust. 

Not much,” I broke in. “ You don’t seriously sup- 
pose I am going to undertake such a nonsensical piece 
of business, do you ? My advice to you, Jack, is to let 
your friends make an opening for you here at home. 
Establish yourself in business and — ” 

“ Advice,” said Harding, dryly, “ is something I 
didn’t call for. It ’s a commodity for which I have no 
sort of use. I know what I am going to do. My plans 
are made, and I want no help on that score ; but I do 
need assistance in their execution. So I have come to 
you. I have bought a craft for the expedition, and she 
will be ready in less than two weeks. But I do want 
you to go with me, Carl, if there is really nothing to 
prevent your going. I learned that you had no 
matrimonial ties before I called. You are just the 
man for an emergency, for you are cool and ready, as 
I know from our college experiences ; and I don’t 
conceal from myself that my scheme involves some 
dangers and uncertainty. I have no question that I 
can reach the island, find the money, and stow it safely 
aboard. Then comes the rub. I must have a friend 
on whom I can place implicit confidence to aid me in 
guarding the treasure and bringing it home. I can’t 
pick my crew, but must ship such men as I can get. 
The money may tempt their cupidity ; if so, there will 
be trouble. I have already expressed my opinion of 
your courage, and I know your friendship. Besides 
you understand something of navigation, and can be 
of much assistance in handling the vessel. I want you 
as my confidential adviser, guard and support. It will, 


A tR£ASURfi FOtil^l) — A 6Rlt)R WoM. 


Id 

moreover, make a really delightful trip for you, will 
do you a world of good, and besides, Carl, we will 
whack up on the treasure, and you can make more 
money by our little outing than you can here. There 's 
five hundred thousand dollars hidden away there, if 
there is a dollar. I will call to-morrow morning, and 
we will take a look at the little craft that is to carry 
us to the Southern Ocean. I must leave you now. 
Don’t say whether you will or won’t, to-day. Think it 
all over and with a hurried shake of the hand he was 
gone. 




CHAPTER IV. 

Before the next morning my decision was made. I 
would go. Of course, it was inane folly to abandon 
my growing practice, together with the comforts and 
amenities of civilized life, for the deprivations and dan- 
gers of a long ocean voyage whose issue was dubious, 
to put it mildly. But, in truth, I found that my ill- 
success in love had wounded me more than I had 
known, and the thought of escape and of the for- 
getfulness which new scenes and adventures would 
produce refreshed me beyond measure. I found Hard- 
ing waiting for me at the office on the following morn- 
ing. 

“You are going, ain’t you?” he said, heartily. “I 
can see your decision in your face. God bless you, 
Carl ! I should have been in something of a fix had 
you decided otherwise. But I felt that you would 
fall in with my plan. You came to mind as I was 
thinking about the recovery of the treasure on the voy- 
age to Boston. But we are wasting time. I want you 
to come and see the vessel. I bought her a few days 
ago. She isn’t very tidy as yet, but you can judge of 
her fitness for the expedition well enough. I was 
lucky in finding just what I wanted so readily. Her 
[ 20 ] 


A TREASURE EOUNU — A BRlUE WON. 21 

owner was in a hurry to sell, and I got her at a low 
figure.” 

We arrived at the India Wharf. Alongside lay a 
small brig, which had evidently just discharged a cargo 
of molasses. 

“There she is,” said Harding, “and though she 
isn’t a fancy yacht, nor a clipper, exactly, she ’s just 
the craft for our purpose.” 

She was a small vessel of some two hundred and fifty 
tons, with rounding bows and a rather capacious look ; 
but her sharp cut-water and graceful lines showed that 
speed as well as capacity had been considered in her 
construction. She was painted white, with a light- 
yellow streak a few feet below the rail, and her bright 
copper showed high above the dirty water in which 
she lay so quietly. Her deck was flush, with a house for- 
ward. The most striking feature about the brig, on 
casual observation, were her spars, which were of un- 
usual size, seeming entirely out of proportion to the hull 
which sustained them. It was plain that if the Janet 
— for so the brig was called — could handle them, she 
could spread an immense amount of canvas and show 
a remarkably nimble pair of heels. I remarked to 
Harding the disparity between the rigging and the 
hull. He laughed a bit uneasily, as he answered : 

“ That is the only objectionable thing about the 
brig. Loaded to the hatches, she can handle her spars 
to advantage, and make quick passages. As a mer- 
chantman she is perfect ; but since we are going with- 
out a cargo, she would suit me better with shorter 
masts and lighter yards. I have no doubt she will be a 
wet boat, and will tumble about a great deal in a heavy 
gale. However, I shall ballast her heavily, and I know 
she is thoroughly seaworthy. She was formerly em- 
ployed in the San Francisco trade, but has of late been 




A treasure: Eound — A bride WOEf. 


plying between Boston and Surinam. Come on board 
and look over our new quarters.” 

We easily swung ourselves down on the deck, and 
proceeded to the cabin, which was comfortably fur- 
nished. Eight small staterooms opened from the main 
cabin, showing that the vessel had been built with a 
view to passenger trade. The nautical instruments 
were new, and there was a complete series of charts. 
She seemed a tight, snug little craft, and was ap- 
parently constructed with great thoroughness and 
care. 

** How about the crew ?” I remarked, as we returned 
to the deck. 

Seven men have been shipped,” "answered Jack. 
“ Her full number is ten, but I don’t want a larger 
crew than is absolutely necessary. If I could ship a 
new crew at the island I would take a larger one here, 
but the smaller the number the safer I shall feel when 
the treasure is once on board. I am looking for a first 
mate, but haven’t found any just to my liking. Hullo, 
Tom !” he suddenly called out to a tall, athletic- 
looking man who had just then appeared on the dock 
and was looking with evident interest at the brig. 
‘‘ How come you in this part of the world ?” 

“ Sailed from Melbourne and arrived about the time 
you did,” was the laconic reply, as the stranger grasped 
the ratlines and dropped to the Janet's deck. 

He was a man of remarkable appearance. Admira- 
ble in build, with the lightness and agility of a cat, his 
whole appearance spoke of masterful strength and 
resolution. A heavy, drooping mustache concealed 
the expression of the mouth, which one would imagine 
as somewhat sinister from the cold gleam of the pale- 
gray eyes. I judged him to be a Spaniard, but it after- 
ward appeared that his parents were English, though 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


23 


Australia was the place of his birth. Despite his noble 
appearance physically— for he was undeniably a hand- 
some man — there was something repellent about his 
air and personality, the undefined and oftentimes un- 
noticed atmosphere which individuality creates before 
it reveals itself in words and acts. I noticed that 
Harding’s greeting was not particularly cordial, though 
he was evidently well acquainted with the man. 

Mr. Morgan, this is my friend, Mr. Tremaine,” said 
Jack, as the stranger approached. He gave me a 
comprehensive glance and nodded indifferently. 

“I want to see you alone for a few minutes, Hard- 
ing,” was his first remark. “Suppose we step into the 
cabin ?” 

“ Excuse me a moment, Carl,” said my friend, in 
evident surprise at the request. “ I must accommodate 
an old shipmate. Though I can’t see what you have 
that requires so much privacy with me,” he added. 

“ Come below and you ’ll learn,” was the apparently 
gruff response ; but the words were spoken in so even 
a tone that I was in doubt whether they were insolent 
or merely playful. 

The two men disappeared down the companionway. 
It was fully an hour before they reappeared, a time 
which I spent in completing my examination of the 
brig. As I went over the vessel, in whose rigging a 
number of men were busily engaged in bending the 
sails, an undefined presentiment of evil, at first unrec- 
ognized and then decided, forced itself upon me. I 
sneered at my folly, and by a strong effort shook it off. 
The will triumphed over the more reliable though 
more obscure instinct. There was certainly nothing 
uncanny about the snug little brig to arouse one’s 
dread. I afterward learned that the cause of this pecu- 
liar admonition of impending evil arose from the tin- 


24 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


conscious impression Morgan had made. On their 
return to the deck, Morgan sprang to the wharf and 
walked away without a word. With a strong effort, 
Harding forced a smile, as he said, in cheery tones : 

“ Well, Carl, I ’ve found a first mate.” 

Who is he ?” 

Tom Morgan,” answered Jack, quietly. 

An exclamation of surprise forced itself from me. 

“ He ’s a brave fellow and a good seaman. A better 
never trod a deck,” said my friend, as though in self- 
defense. 

“ But I thought your manner toward him was not 
particularly cordial, and I must say I was not favor- 
ably impressed with him.” 

“ To tell the truth, I don’t like him personally very 
much myself,” replied Harding. But he wanted to 
go with me, and, so far as courage and capacity go, he 
is all we could wish. Besides, I am, I suppose, under 
some obligation to him. You remember my telling 
you that my first voyage was in a ship called the Tigris. 
She was a large craft, and Morgan was her third offi- 
cer. He was then, as now, a very taciturn fellow, and 
inclined to be severe on the men. To come at it in a 
word, he was desperately cruel. I never incurred his 
resentment, but it was avoided only by the hardest 
kind of endeavor. When we reached Calcutta, he 
showed some kindness toward me, and even saved my 
life when I was attacked by a gang of drunken roughs 
at that port, though I have always thought that he in- 
terfered in that affair more out of a desire to injure my 
assailants than to protect me. Whatever his motive, 
he certainly rendered me a great service, which I can- 
not fairly forget.” 

I felt that Harding had not explained the real reason 
for shipping Morgan, though it would have puzzled 


A TREASURt: FOUNt) — A RRlDE WON. 


25 


me to tell why. I therefore remarked that as he was to 
be the commander of Xhejanet^ he could keep Mor- 
gan’s disposition to tyranny within bounds. 

“ Besides,” I added, “ cruel men are at heart always 
cowards, and you can easily master him if he shows 
any insubordination.” 

Harding gave me a peculiar look as he said : 

Morgan is cruel by nature, but he is no coward. 
He is absolutely without any sense of fear. I am 
brave because I am ashamed to be a coward. Morgan 
is brave because he has no notion of what it is to be 
afraid. However, I trust that we shall get along all 
right. He thinks the Janet a good craft.” 

“ He doesn’t know the object of the expedition, of 
course ?” 

“ I shall tell him before we reach our destination,” 
was Jack’s reply. And with that he began to talk 
about the brig and her equipment, and the subject of 
the mate was not again referred to. 

The next two weeks were fully occupied in prep- 
arations, and on the first of March theyh:«^/was towed 
well out into the bay, and the voyage began. Mr. Mor- 
gan, whom I had not seen since our first meeting, ap- 
peared early in the morning, and was busy in getting 
the brig iinder weigh. He said little. His manner 
toward the crew, though sharp and distant, was not 
particularly offensive. Twelve men comprised our 
ship’s company — seven sailors before the mast, an Irish 
cook, Morgan, Harding, myself and a second mate 
named Ross. The latter was a short, sandy-haired 
fellow, a trifle consumptive in appearance, and rather 
reserved and surly in manner, his commonplace ex 
terior giving no hint of the dauntless heart and noble 
spirit which it enclosed. 

The day was peculiarly dark and dismal. The water 


^6 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


was overhung by a dense fog, whose dull masses broke 
now and then before the raw wind which came straight 
from the northeast. It sent a chill to the bones, and 
made even the distant coast seem inviting, as it loomed 
vaguely through the mist in a blank monotony, relieved 
occasionally by the rude house of some fisherman or 
sailor. The whole scene was so unpromising that, to 
relieve myself from a sense of depression that was 
rapidly forming, I went below to my stateroom, where 
I began arranging my traps. The little cabin soon 
took on an appearance of comfort and order, and I was 
about to return on deck, determined to enjoy the situa- 
tion and make the best of it, when there was a quick 
knock at the door and Jack entered. Seating himself, 
hs said abruptly : 

“ I am glad of a chance to speak with you alone at 
the beginning of the voyage. There is something 
which I ought to have told you before we started. I 
didn’t, however, thinking it would be useless ; but I 
find myself so worried, now that we are fairly afloat 
and on the way, that I must inform you in regard to it. 
It ’s all about that infernal first mate of mine. The 
substance of the whole thing is that he knows the ob- 
ject of the voyage.” 

“Of course, you told him ?” I exclaimed. 

“ Not at all. He knew when he came aboard on 
your first visit to the brig. That is why I took him. 
He is the last man I should want for the position ; but 
he calmly told me that I was planning to recover a 
lost treasure, and that I must ship him for the voyage 
as my first officer, or there would be trouble. Conse- 
quently, here he is. How he obtained his information 
I cannot conceive ; but he had obtained it in some 
way, and I concluded he was better aboard than else- 
where. As you may imagine, this affair has consider- 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


27 


ably upset me. I asked him bluntly how he came by 
his knowledge, and was met by a refusal to answer 
equally blunt. I fear he knows more of me and my 
affairs than he has yet disclosed, and the suspicion 
makes me very uneasy. However, there isn’t any use 
in borrowing trouble, and I don’t think we need look 
for any until after the treasure is on board. Then we 
can keep an eye out for squalls. Of course, he may 
only want a reasonable amount of the booty ; and if 
that is all, we can get along comfortably enough, I 
fancy.” 

We both sat silent for a moment. The brig was al- 
ready pitching considerably, and through the port-hole 
there was a vision, startlingly near and distinct, of the 
swift rush of the green seas. I recalled my suspicions, 
and wished I had treated them with more considera- 
tion. At last I remarked : 

** I have disliked the fellow since I first saw him ; but 
if we are on our guard, I don’t see how he can do any 
great harm. Distrusting him as 1 have, what you say 
does not surprise me as much as it otherwise might, 
though it is certainly strange enough hew he came by 
his knowledge. At any rate, you can rely on me, old 
fellow, now that we are in for it, and together I think 
we can prove a match for our taciturn friend.” 

“Thank you, Carl,” said my friend, warmly grasping 
my hand. “ It was simply an inspiration which led me 
to think of you as a standby for this undertaking. Let ’s 
go on deck now, and see what sail Morgan has got on 
the old girl. This breeze ought to make her show her 
heels if she ’s got any. He is a good sailor, anyway, 
and it may turn out that we haven't any cause for 
bother in the end.” 

Slipping on a warm sou’wester, I followed Harding, 
who at once took charge of the brig. She was under 


28 A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. j 

topgallants, and, though the breeze was not particu- | 
larly strong, was already fulfilling Jack's prophecy that | 
she would be a wet boat, for she was rolling heavily, | 
and occasionally a green billow came dashing over her | 
round bows, sending the spray flying in clouds to the 
foretop. Two seamen were aloft, making some repairs j 

in the rigging, while a tall and weather-beaten sailor | 

stood at the wheel, glancing now and then into the i 
binnacle, in which the lamp was already lighted. The 
fog had largely disappeared, but the clouds were j 
thicker, and there was the feeling of more wind and | 
dirty weather in the air. Despite the light canvas she 
was carrying, the Janet made hard work of it, and 
Harding was compelled to reduce sail. The main top- ^ 
gallant was furled, and this relieved her considerably. 

The log showed that the brig was making eight knots 
an hour, and it was clear that the Janet was a much | 
faster craft than her rather clumsy appearance had in- 
dicated. After giving the course. Jack went below^ | 
leaving the second mate in charge. He was standing I 

near the lee rail, with hands in pockets, vigorously ' 

chewing — eating would describe the process more ex- 
actly — a huge mouthful of fine cut, and watching, in a | 
calmly disinterested manner, the action of the brig, as 
she bowed and rolled over the darkening surges. 
Small and insignificant as was his appearance, he had 
the quiet dignity and repose which invariably mark 
the manner of a brave and self-respecting man. I felt 
that he was to be relied upon as much as Morgan was 
to be distrusted, and with a view to his friendship, I 
approached and entered into conversation. He had 
come on board at the last moment, and I had heard 
Harding remark that his name was Ross. 

Let me introduce myself, Mr. Ross," was my re- 
mark, as the man looked up at my approach, “ My 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


29 


name is Tremaine, and I am going to take this little 
cruise at the invitation of Captain Harding, an old 
friend.” 

** Glad to know you, sir,” was the response. 

Not very pleasant weather for the beginning of 
our voyage, and it looks as though it was going to be 
thicker.” 

Yes, I think it will come on to blow harder before 
morning.” 

“ What do you think of the brig ?” I asked. ** Are 
not her spars rather heavy for her hull ?” 

“ Well, they do look rather large, but she is fast in a 
light wind, and her rolling ain’t bad when you are 
used to it. The yards will make her keel round a good 
deal, but she is a stanch craft.” 

“ You have sailed in the Janet before ?” I inquired. 

“ Came from San Francisco in her two years ago.” 

“Any hard weather ?” 

“ Yes, some ; but the hardest weather I ever saw 
was in a smack on the banks. You don’t need to round 
Cape Horn to find wind and seas. The ocean’s about 
the same everywhere. Let it blow hard enough, and 
you always get the same thing. And it blows plenty 
hard enough most anywhere in the course of the year,” 
and with this remark the mate grinned sardonically, 
and relieving himself of the exhausted quid, imme- 
diately replaced it with a fresh one. This being satis- 
factorily accomplished, he asked : 

“ Ever been to sea before ?” 

“ Only on short trips ; this is my first extended 
voyage.” 

“ I hope you ’ll like it. But, for my part I never 
could see what men with good berths ashore ever want 
to go to sea for, if they are well. Of course, if they are 
sick, it ’s different. I suppose the sea-air does brace 


I 


30 A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 

’em up, but I always thought land-air would suit me | 
about as well.” | 

The sea has always had a great fascination for me,” 1 
I answered, “ and it has for a good many landsmen. I | 
should think you would delight in your work. Now, 

I 'm a lawyer, but I have often thought that I would 
rather command a ship than be a judge.” ^ | 

Ross indulged in his philosophic smile. | 

^‘Wait till our voyage is over, and I guess you ’ll 1 
prefer his honor’s job. The sea fascinates the lands- 
men, as you call it, when it is fascinating, but I never | 
saw a sailor or green hand or anybody else who was 
fascinated by a howling hurricane, with the seas pouring 
aboard as though determined to drown your craft 
outright. If some of these fascinated fellers had to 
lay out on the end of that yard-arm on a pitch-dark | 
night, in freezing weather, and the wind doing its best i 
to tear you off the rigging and nearly succeeding, they ’d I 
get over their fascination. It ’s something no sailor | 
ever had.” 

“ You are not afraid of your business, are you ?” I 
remarked, somewhat surprised at what he had said. 

No, I guess I ain’t afraid, no more than any other 
man, but I wouldn’t be a fool just for the sake of being 
one,” was the rejoinder. 

“ Then I suppose I am foolish in your judgment in 
taking this voyage with my friend,” said I. 

“ No, I didn’t mean that. Only it makes me mad to 
hear landsmen boast and brag, as they sometimes do, 
about how they’d never be afraid of anything that 
could happen ‘ with a stanch craft under their feet,’ etc. 

I used to notice this particularly when I ran a small 
sloop for pleasure parties at a summer resort a year or 
two ago.” And with his silent laugh the little mate 
looked into the binnacle ^nd wont below, 


CHAPTER V. 


The wind blew hard during the night, but the gale 
was short-lived, and the sun rose gloriously the next 
morning, bringing a steady breeze from the northwest. 
Under all plain canvas, the Janet bounded merrily over 
the green seas, as though rejoicing in the sunshine and 
the wind. One cannot indulge in morbid thoughts or 
gloomy apprehensions under such circumstances. The 
sea-wind dissipates malaria of the mind as well as of 
the body, and as I gazed on the rolling surface of the 
ocean, glittering in the morning light, and felt the liv- 
ing leap of the brig from crest to crest, all fear of evil 
and uncanny thoughts about Morgan vanished, and I 
was glad that my friend had sought me out for his wild 
voyage. We had, as yet, no reason to complain of the 
first mate. He was, to be sure, extremely uncommuni- 
cative, rarely speaking except when addressed, but his 
answers were invariably courteous, and his demeanor 
that of a gentleman. One could but feel, however, 
that he was constantly on the watch. I had detected 
him looking attentively at the second mate, as though 
endeavoring to measure him mentally and physically, 

[31] 


32 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


and I had also found myself more than once the object | 
of his attention. 

But as day after day passed and no change in his j 
conduct occurred, my suspicion was lulled, and I gave ! 
myself up heartily to the enjoyment of the voyage. 

For more than three weeks we were favored with 
fair skies and breezes, which never failed us till we were 
nearly at the equator. The run had been remarkably i 
pleasant, and the Ja7iet had developed a speed which j 
surprised us all. The island, according to the memo- | 
randum of old Captain Harding, was in the South I 
Pacific, some two thousand miles southwest of Mel- 
bourne, and Jack reckoned that, with favorable weather^ 
we might hope to reach it within four months. As the 
weather had been uniformly pleasant and we had 
made so good a run since leaving Boston, no one was 
disposed to grumble at the calm which had overtaken 
us. Moreover, it was not likely to be of long duration. j 
The barometer had fluctuated considerably before the I 
wind failed, and it was now steadily sinking. The sun , 
set gloriously behind a mass of white clouds, which 
seemed to disappear with the luminary. The stars I 
came faintly out in the black sky. They shone but 
dimly, and with no reflection in the surface of the 
ocean, whose waters heaved with a solemn swell. The 
sea had a heavy, sticky look, and the knowledge that 
the glass was still falling added to its ominous appear- 
ance. A careful watch was kept and the brig put 
under close-reefed topsails, for we expected the gale 
before morning. 

The long night wore away, however, and still the 
Janet rolled heavily on the sluggish swell, her sails 
occasionally flapping against the masts with a sullen 
thud. The sky was wrapped in a dull coating of im- 
penetrable cloud, whose surface was so dense and un- 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


33 


broken that it seemed impossible that there was blue 
sky beyond. A feeling of wind filled the air, yet not a 
sail expanded, not a rope swayed. The desolate loneli- 
ness of the ocean was greater in the gray dawn than 
in the darkness of the night. A faint, almost sicken- 
ing odor, as of decaying things tossed up from the 
depths of the sea by the weltering swell, was exhaled 
from the water. All the signs of a thundering tropical 
hurricane were present, but the portentous calm was 
fast becoming unendurable. We wished that the tem- 
pest would howl down upon us and be done with it. 

Slowly the dreary day wore away. The swell had 
steadily increased, but not a breath of wind. The roll- 
ing of the brig was something terrific, and at times it 
seemed as though she would go on her beam ends and 
never right. Light as she was, the heavy spars proved 
a terrible strain. But we could only wait for the gale, 
which must soon come, and which we felt could render 
our situation no more precarious. 

There was no change in the weather until nearly 
sunset, when the clouds suddenly parted in the west, 
and for a moment we saw the sun, a fiery ball which 
cast a fierce red glare upon the dull cloud-masses. 
There was no cheer in its light, but rather an ugly 
warning of approaching trouble. 

Quickly the rift in the clouds closed, and with the 
disappearance of the sun came the wind. We could 
see the rain and spray driving before it to windward, a 
rapidly advancing wall of water. A few imperative 
orders were given, but they were hardly executed when 
the gale was upon us. Down it swooped like a malig- 
nant fury, and struck the Janet a blow from which we 
thought she could never rally. Over she went till her 
lee rail and end of the main yard were under water. 
Still further she keeled ; a moment more and she would 


M A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 

have been bottom up, with none to tell the story of her 
loss. But the wind lulled for an instant, after the first 
blast, and this was our salvation. 

The brig* rapidly righted, and showed that, properly 
rigged, she would have been as buoyant as a duck. 
Jack at once ordered the vessel hove-to under a close- 
reefed fore-topsail, and though the maneuver was at- 
tended with great danger, Janet at last wore around 
and was comparatively safe for the present. Overpow- 
ering as was the force of the storm, the brig labored 
less than in the calm which preceded it, for the wind 
as it swept over the ocean had partly ironed out the 
waves, and the swell was less powerful than before. 

As the night advanced, the gale gathered in strength, 
and beneath its buffetings the Jayiet labored frantically. 
She dove headlong into the cavities between the bil- 
lows, every plunge threatening to be her last. 

There was nothing to be done, however, and as the 
waves continually swept the deck, Harding ordered 
the men below, except those necessary to care for the 
brig. Terrible as was the vessel’s rolling, as seen from 
the deck, it was nothing compared with the sensation 
experienced below. Here her swirls into the hollows 
of the sea were absolutely sickening. While the roar of 
the wind was somewhat dulled, the creaking and groan- 
ing of the brig sounded like the mutterings and yells 
of a crew of maniacs. Every timber ground and 
crunched against its neighbor as though in an effort to 
escape from the wild waters beneath. The whole fab- 
ric of the brig was alive with terror. 

We had barely changed some of our water-soaked 
garments, when a cry from the sailor at the wheel 
brought us on deck. Coming from the shelter of the 
cabin, the force of the wind seemed increased tenfold. 
One could but think that it must either blow the brig 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


35 


clean out of the water or drive her beneath the 
waves. 

“ What 's the matter ?” demanded Harding. 

But his question needed no answer, for we all caught 
sight of a bright light far away to windward, illumin- 
ing the sky with a dull glow. 

“ A ship on fire !’' shouted Ross, in awe-struck tones. 
And, indeed, it could be nothing else. With fascinated 
gaze we kept our eyes fixed on the glowing sky. 
Brighter and brighter grew the heavens. 

“ They couldn’t heave her to,” yelled Morgan, “ and 
she is running before the gale. She will soon be in 
sight, if she doesn’t go down.” 

He was right. Soon from the tops of the seas we 
caught glimpses of a fiery mass, and in a little while 
the* doomed craft was in plain sight, driving directly 
toward us. She was a large, four-masted ship, of at 
least two thousand tons. Her huge white hull gleamed 
with a light made ghastly by its reflection from the 
black waters. Burning with a fierceness which only 
inflammable material in a raging hurricane can produce, 
she was a complete mass of flames forward. The seas 
which continually broke over her made no impression 
on the fire. We judged that she was laden with oil 
from her height out of the water and the ferocity with 
which the fire raged. 

Soon she was fairly abreast of us, not more than half 
a mile away. We could see the crew gathered on the 
poop, their dark forms clearly marked against the 
ruddy light. There was a sudden commotion among 
them, and, heard above the wild hooting of the gale, a 
faint shriek reached our ears, and we could see the 
wretched men rush to the rail and stretch out their 
arms in mad entreaty. It was only the unreasoning 
instinct of self-preservation. We were as powerless to 


36 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


help them as though the brig were snugly moored to 
her dock Boston. 

The fire was rapidly working aft ; the mizzen-mast 
was all ablaze, while the smoke and flame curled about 
the lower part of the jigger. 

“ She will soon go down,” yelled Harding. The 
fire must have about eaten her hull through ” 

Scarcely had he spoken when a wave of unusual size 
struck the Janet on the quarter, and nearly threw her 
bodily from the water. Down she slid with a giddy 
whirl, as though determined never to rise again, and 
we lost sight of the doomed craft, which had driven 
some distance beyond us. As we mounted on the next 
billow, we saw the ill-fated stranger poised on the 
summit of a ridge of water, seemingly one mass of fi.re. 
Then came an explosion, resounding loud above the 
screeching of the storm — the ship plunged bow fore- 
most into the chasm and was gone. Blank darkness 
drowned the light, as did the sea the ship, and we were 
alone again on the weltering waste of waters. I had 
thought my nerves pretty steady, but the spectacle of 
the burning ship and her mad plunge and disappear- 
ance in the furious sea made me faint with either terror 
or excitement. Years have passed since that night, 
but they have never dimmed the recollection of its 
horror. In imagination I have often followed the 
burned-out hull as it sank through the waves till it 
reached the quiet depths below. How steadily it de- 
scended down, down through fathom after fathom, 
mile after mile of the black damp, until at last gently, 
as though not sure that its destination was reached, it 
grounded on the foundations of the world, there to re- 
main until the world shall cease to be. 

But the gravity of our own situation speedily recalled 
our thoughts to ourselves and the brig. The barometer 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


37 


had ceased falling, but the wind increased with the 
night, causing the Janet to wrench and roll as though 
in a death-agony. No conversation was possible or 
necessary. Every man of us knew that the brig might 
go down at any moment, and we could only wait and 
meet our fate bravely, if our time had come. 

At last there came a gust of unexampled violence. 
A crash aloft, ropes breaking like thread, and the fore 
and main topgallant masts were carried far to leeward 
and completely clear of the brig. It was our salvation. 
Had the rigging held, the vessel would inevitably have 
rolled bottom up. Instinctively we felt it when the 
mighty blast struck her. The bowsprit, wrenched and 
weakened by the tearing away of the spars, soon fol- 
lowed them ; but the Janet^ though she looked like a 
wreck, was safer and more seaworthy than at any time 
since the storm broke. Her top-hamper gone, the 
rolling largely ceased and she rose to the surges with 
ease and buoyancy. The well, on being sounded, 
showed about a foot of water, which had probably 
washed in from above. The pumps were manned, and 
in a few minutes the hoarse, sucking sound so welcome 
to a sailor’s ears under such circumstances, announced 
that the hull was tight. Unless some unforeseen mis- 
chance happened, it was plain that we should weather 
the gale. Just as it was beginning to grow light we 
went below, leaving the second mate in charge. 

For three days the storm raged with varying degrees 
of violence, but the Janet^ under her topmasts, proved 
herself a gallant sea-boat and suffered no further dam- 
age. Toward evening of the third day there was a 
slight rise in the glass. The wind, though still vio- 
lent, was more steady and had less weight. The back 
of the storm was clearly broken. When I came on 
deck the next morning, the sun shone in a cloudless 


38 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


sky, while the Janet was dancing over the white-caps 
as though rejoicing in her escape, a glorious breeze 
filling every sail. A new fore-topgallant mast and 
bowsprit were in place before night. Jack decided 
not to replace the main-topgallant, for though its 
absence would lessen the speed of the brig and give 
her a crippled look, the gain in safety in hard weather 
would more than compensate for these deficiencies 



CHAPTER VI. 


An uneventful week ensued. Fair winds carried the 
Janet right merrily on her course ; harmony and good 
will apparently prevailed among us and I was coming 
to think that our romantic voyage would have a prosaic 
conclusion, that we should load the treasure on board, 
and sail away to Melbourne, where Jack would marry 
his sweetheart, as thousands of sweethearts have been 
married before, and that we should come back together 
to Boston on the wedding journey, for Harding had 
told me that it was decided that the Winters should 
return to America when Florence was married. It was 
a habit of mine always to expect that the commonplace 
and uneventful would happen, one, however, of which 
this voyage completely cured me. 

One pleasant, tropical morning I was walking the 
rather short deck of the Janet^ enjoying a matutinal 
cigar and reveling in the freshness of sea and air. 
Morgan was in charge of the brig, giving an occasional 

L 39 J 


40 


A 'TREASURE EOUNt) — A BRIDE WON. 


command to some sailors who were scrubbing- down the 
deck. I had strolled well forward and was just turn- 
ing, when one of the men, a stout good-looking sea- 
man, an Englishman, I believe, with a careless whirl 
of his brush scattered a few drops of water on the 
mate’s shoes. It was the merest accident, a trifle 
which another man would have hardly noticed. But 
Morgan, with a fierce spring, grasped the kneeling 
sailor by the nape of the neck, and dashed his head 
again and again upon the deck. Then, catching him 
by the collar of his blue shirt, he shook him till the 
fellow’s teeth fairly rattled, uttering all the while wild 
curses, made unintelligible by rage. Suddenly he 
stopped. 

“ Forward here !” he yelled to the rest of the watch. 
Quickly the men advanced. The malignant cruelty of 
the mate had apparently cowed them. ‘‘ Fasten a line 
to each hand,” growled Morgan. 

The order was at once obeyed. Running the ropes 
through blocks, the sailors hoisted away until the vic- 
tim of the mate’s anger swung to and fro with the roll- 
ing of the brig, the hard ropes chafing and cutting into 
his wrists, from which the blood slowly oozed. The 
sight was more than flesh and blood could stand. I 
stepped rapidly forward. 

“ What are you punishing the man in that way for ?” 
I demanded. “ He did nothing except slop a little 
water on you. I saw the whole affair, and it was wholly 
accidental.” 

Morgan gave me an insolent look. 

“ None of your business why I am punishing him,” 
he growled. “ I didn’t ship as first officer of this craft 
to render to a passenger the reasons of my actions 
toward my crew. There he hangs, and there he will 
hang till I choose to cut him down.” 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


41 


“ No, he won’t,” I retorted, angrily. “ I am only a 
passenger, and haven’t any authority, but I will see 
Captain Harding, and if he does not order you to re- 
lease the man, I ’ll do it myself and before he could 
reply I sprang down the companionway. 

There had been a lively squall the night before, and 
both Jack and the second mate were asleep below. I 
knocked loudly at Harding’s door, and just as it opened 
to admit me, I saw Morgan descending into the 
cabin. 

“ What 's the matter, Carl ?” demanded my friend, 
looking at me in surprise as I entered the room. 

“ That infernal first mate of yours has broken loose 
and is torturing a sailor. Come on deck at once, and 
put an end to it, or I will.” 

Then I briefly narrated the occurrence. Harding 
looked deeply troubled. 

‘‘ I am sorry it has happened, but it can’t be helped,” 
he said, at last. “ You can be sure I won’t permit any 
cruelty on board, however much I may want to avoid 
trouble with Morgan. I will be on deck directly. If 
you have a revolver, get it. I ’m afraid we shall have 
a bit of a row, and it may be handy.” 

I hurriedly returned to the deck. My pistol, a small 
one, I had carried with me since the beginning of the 
voyage. Morgan had gone below, but the sailor still 
hung, swinging helplessly, his toes barely touching the 
deck. His face was distorted with suffering ; the blood 
ran in small streams from the wounds in his head, but 
he as yet had littered no sound of anguish through his 
tightly-clenched teeth. I was about to speak a word 
of encouragement, when Ross appeared. He looked 
at the swaying form of the man in surprise. Stepping 
up to him, he said : 

** What are you in this fix for, Frank ?” 


42 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


“ Dunno,” groaned the sailor. ‘‘ Mr. Morgan jumped 
onto me and ordered me strung up.” 

Ross turned to me. 

“ Do you know anything about this, Mr. Tremaine 

Choking with wrath, I told him the story of the 
affair. When I had finished, he grasped the ropes and 
gently lowered the seaman to the deck. He could 
hardly stand at first. 

“ Go forward,” said Ross. ‘‘ I '11 see that you don’t 
suffer any more for nothing.” 

Slowly and painfully the man staggered away, the 
blood still flowing from the cruel bruises inflicted by 
his assailant. The sailors gathered about him, and 
their villainous scowls and black glances did not augur 
well for the future of our voyage. But I had hardly 
time to notice this when Morgan sprang up the com- 
panionway. He cast a look at the place where the 
sailor had hung, and his face blackened in an in- 
stant. 

“ Who released that blundering scoundrel, Frank ?” 
he demanded, looking in quick succession at Ross and 
myself. 

“ I did,” answered the former, quietly. 

“ Did you know that he was put there by my orders ?” 
thundered the first mate. 

“He told me you fixed him there. The man was 
suffering badly, and I cut him down.” 

Ross spoke coolly and indifferently, as though he 
were differing from his superior merely on the abstract 
question of cruelty. Morgan’s face was a study. He 
grew black and white by turns, his sinewy hands 
clinched together as though to tear each other through, 
and I saw what I had formerly supposed to be merely 
the novelist’s exaggeration, a white froth gathering at 
the corners of his mouth. By a mighty effort, which I 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 4B 

could but admire, despite my hatred of the fellow, 
Morgan regained his self-control, and said huskily : 

“ Do you know, Mr. Ross, that I am the first officer 
of this vessel, and your superior, and that as such you 
have neither the right nor the authority to counter- 
mand any of my orders ? That sailor was strung up 
there because, in my judgment, it was what he de- 
served. Now go forward, ‘bring him here, and haul 
him up where you found him, or — ’’ 

He stopped and gasped for breath, convulsed with 
passion. Ross looked calmly at him as he replied : 

“ I ordered Frank to be cut down because I didn’t 
think that Captain Harding would approve such treat- 
ment. If he orders the man strung up again I ’ll obey, 
but I ’ll never see a man tortured like that except by 
the skipper’s orders. I don’t take such commands 
from a brute like you.” 

For a moment the two men faced each other. Then, 
with a spring like a tiger and a yell as wild, Morgan 
leaped upon the little mate. The latter was helpless 
in his iron clutch. For a second the first mate’s hands 
grasped Ross’s throat as though they would never re- 
lease their hold ; then with a fierce wrench the brute 
hurled the slight form from him like a toy. Ross flew 
limply through the air, and fell in a heap on the deck. 
The whole affair was so sudden, and Morgan moved 
with such speed, that I could hardly stir before the 
mischief had been done. The first mate had just turned 
upon me, when Harding sprang up the companion- 
way, pistol in hand. Morgan’s right hand sought his 
breast. 

“ Hold on, Tom Morgan,” said Jack, with great 
ferocity. “ I ’ll kill you if you make another move- 
ment.” 

The mate gazed into the loaded muzzle. Not a 


44 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


muscle quivered ; not a nerve gave way. But his judg- 
ment was asserting itself. No man could look at 
Harding and doubt his purpose. 

“ Where is your pistol, Morgan ?” he said, grimly. 

There was no answer. 

“ I repeat my question. Where is your pistol ? I 
shall not repeat it again and the smile with which 
the words were accompanied was a deadly one. 

“ In my shirt front,” came the reply, in tones scarcely 
audible. 

“ Carl, will you kindly step forward and disarm Mr. 
Morgan ?” 

I promptly did so. As my hand rested for a moment 
over the scoundrel’s heart, I observed its quiet, regular 
beating. Morgan was yielding, because there was no 
other resource, but he was wholly without fear. He 
was overcome for the moment, but not subdued. The 
pistol, an extremely large and formidable weapon, was 
easily found, with every barrel loaded. Jack still kept 
his weapon full on the mate. 

“ Please go below, Mr. Tremaine, and examine Mr. 
Morgan’s stateroom. Take all weapons and ammuni- 
tion you may find and place them in my cabin.” 

Rapidly I hastened below. The place was rather 
dark, and I lighted a small lamp before entering Mor- 
gan’s apartment. It was a tiny room, and so low that 
I fancied its occupant could scarcely have stood up- 
right. My search was rewarded with no immediate 
results. There were the usual fittings of an officer’s 
room. A sextant stood on the table, and near by was a 
chart, on which the course had been pricked ; under- 
neath lay a paper containing the calculations of yester- 
day’s position. The figures were small and delicate, 
resembling those of a woman, and were made with 
great precision and neatness. Morgan was apparently 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


45 


a man of great care and accuracy, as well as of cruelty. 
After overhauling everything else in the room, 1 at 
last examined a row of drawers at the end of the table. 
The upper ones -were unlocked ; they contained the 
usual clothing of a seaman, and in addition a supply of 
underwear of extremely fine quality, such as the mer- 
chant officer seldom knows the existence of. There 
was also a large number of linen handkerchiefs, with 
the letter M elaborately embroidered in one corner, evi- 
dently the work of fair fingers. The lower drawer alone 
was locked. From a large bunch of keys I fortunately 
found one that fitted, and here I discovered the object of 
my search. Snugly packed away in cotton, and carefully 
oiled and polished, lay four “ bull-dog ” revolvers, ac- 
companied by an abundant supply of cartridges. 
Thrusting them into my pocket, I again scrutinized 
every nook and corner of the little room, but could 
find no other trace of weapons. Satisfied that further 
search would be useless, I was about to withdraw, when 
a coat of Morgan’s, which I had already examined, 
again caught my eye. Impelled by some unintelligible 
motive, I again took the garment, running my hand 
along the lining. This time I felt a hard, smooth sur- 
face, which had escaped my notice before. Observing 
the spot closely, I found a pocket, closed at the top with 
a number of small, flat buttons. Hurriedly opening it, 
I drew from within a thin, oblong object, wrapped in 
oiled silk. I knew at once that it must be a portrait, 
and was about to replace it, feeling that the emergency 
did not call for such an intrusion into Morgan’s private 
affairs ; but an overmastering curiosity urged me on, 
and, after a moment’s hesitation, I unwrapped the silk. 
Had a rattlesnake suddenly sprung forth, I could not 
have been more astounded than by the picture that 
met my gaze. And yet it was no Gorgon’s head that 


40 


A TREASURE 'FOUNB — A RRIDE WON. 


confronted me ; on the contrary, that of a very beauti- 
ful and sunny-haired young woman ; but the face was 
that of— Florence Winter. I could not be mistaken. 
Jack, in one of his confidences, had shown me a picture 
of his sweetheart before we left Boston, so I felt in- 
stinctively that I could not be wrong. A glance at the 
back of the photograph set all doubt at rest. “ Siiiith 
Bros., Melbourne,” was conclusive. Recovering at 
last my senses, I replaced the photograph and hastened 
on deck. 

Harding WaS Still Covering the first mate with his 
pistol^ while two sailors were engaged in caring for 
Ross. 'They were chafing his forehead, arms and 
hands, but though he groaned occasionally, he had not 
as yet recovered consciousness. Quickly procuring a 
bottle of brandy, I pried open the suffering man’s 
mouth and poured some of the fiery liquid down his 
throat, and in a few minutes was overjoyed to see his 
eyes slowly open. 

He looked about in a dazed sort of way, then, with 
my assistance, staggered to his feet, and fixing his eyes 
upon Morgan, who had stood like a statue since Hard- 
ing appeared on the scene, started toward him. 

But his strength was completely gone ; he tottered 
and would have fallen had I not caught him. 

“ Take him below, will you, Carl ?” said Harding. 

With the ready help of a sailor, I soon succeeded in 
stowing the second mate snugly away in his bunk. He 
groaned heavily, and I was fearful that he had suffered 
some severe internal injury, so violent and ruthless 
had been the attack of his assailant. 

Leaving the seaman to care for his needs, I returned 
to the deck. Morgan was leaning on the rail, and 
Harding had lowered his weapon, though it was still 
clutched in his hand. The mate had regained com- 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


47 


plete self-command, for his complexion exhibited its 
normal tawny hue, the color no longer varying, as I 
had observed to be the case when a mental struggle 
was going on. He even smiled slightly as I reap- 
peared, though with an expression that was far from 
reassuring. 

“ Now that the battle is over, and the injured have 
been carried away, may I be allowed to ask, Captain 
Harding, what reason you have for threatening my 
life at the muzzle of a loaded revolver ?” said Morgan, 
in blandly even tones. ** Such conduct on the part of 
the master of a vessel toward his first officer is some- 
what unusual, to say the least.” 

“ It ’s a matter we don’t need to discuss,” returned 
Jack. I threatened to kill you, and would have done 
so, in order to save the lives of my friend and my 
second mate, both of whom you would have shot 
down like dogs, had you been able. Your cursed 
cruelty broke loose, and I know you too well under 
such circumstances to waste time in mild measures. 
If you have come to your senses, and are ready to re- 
turn to your duty, you may do so for the present, until 
I consult with Mr. Tremaine in regard to my future 
course concerning you. But you are never to strike a 
seaman on board this brig, unless he flatly refuses to 
obey orders. And if you, under any circumstances, 
offer the slightest violence to Mr. Ross again, I will 
put you in irons for the rest of the voyage. All that 
prevents my doing so now is the fact that you once 
saved my life. But that shall not stand between us 
again. If you accept these terms, all right. If not, I 
will iron you now.” 

Harding waited for a reply, his finger toying care- 
lessly with the trigger of his revolver. At last the 
mate said, with apparent effort, and a peculiar smile : 


48 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


“ It would be quite a job to carry out your threat 
Captain Harding, but I will accept the conditions. You 
have not deemed it worth while to consider my side of 
the story ; but let that go. With your permission I 
will go below and see in what condition Mr. Tremaine 
has left my private property and with this remark 
he disappeared down the companionway. 

On his return he resumed his duties on deck, and I 
could not tell from his appearance whether he had dis- 
covered the extent of my investigations. 





CHAPTER VII. 

It came on to blow heavily toward night, and for 
several days ihe Janet struggled with a gale well nigh 
equal in violence to that encountered on the equator. 
She required the unremitting attention of both officers 
and crew, making any thought of action in regard to 
Morgan out of the question. Finally, on the evening 
of the third day, the weather moderated, and Jack, who 
had scarcely left the deck while the storm lasted, went 
below to his cabin, whither I soon followed him. He 
was lying in his bunk, and a happy though tired smile 
played across his handsome face as I appeared. I 
didn’t wonder he had won the heart of the fair Aus- 
tralian. He was a man whom any woman might love, 
and worthily. 

“ Dreaming, Jack ?” said I, as I closed the door. 

I must confess that I was, though the South Atlan- 
tic is a pretty poor place to dream in. But I was allow- 
ing myself to imagine that the voyage was safely over, 
with the old craft lying at anchor in Melbourne harbor. 
She ’s a bonnie lassie, Carl — of course you know whom 
I mean — and I often get rather homesick for her. It 
is strange how one little girl can so twine herself into 
one’s heart and life. I never cared any for the dozens 
of girls I used to flirt with in college, nor they for me. 

[49] 


50 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


But Florence seemed like a different being. I suppose 
we were designed for each other, and knew it at once.” 

** I 'm glad you broached the subject, however,” I 
answered, “ for I discovered something when over- 
hauling Morgan’s cabin that I haven’t told you of yet 
and in a few words I recounted the finding of the 
picture. 

“ You surely must be mistaken,” said Harding, in 
astonishment, as I concluded. “ I feel certain that had 
Florence given her picture to any one so recently she 
would have told me, and, were she acquainted with 
Morgan, I should in some way have known of it.” 

“ I ’m not mistaken,” was my reply. “ I know it was 
your sweetheart’s picture.” 

It is something that can easily be settled,” said my 
friend, rising and taking a picture-case from a drawer 
in a small cabinet. “ I haven’t shown you this, because 
when I parted from Florence she gave it to me, and I 
promised to keep this particular picture for my eyes 
alone — for my adoration, etc. Of course, you don’t 
understand, old man, but I think the emergency is 
serious enough to permit of my breaking the promise.” 

With these words, he opened the case, revealing, as 
I had expected, a photograph identical with that which 
I had discovered in Morgan’s cabin. 

“ It is the one,” I remarked. “ There is no question 
about it.” 

For a while we both sat in silence. 

“ I can’t understand it !” exclaimed my companion 
at last. “ Those pictures were taken not more than a 
month before I arrived at Melbourne, and it seems im- 
possible that Florence should have known so remark- 
able a man as Morgan well enough to give him her 
photograph without having mentioned him to me.” 

“It is barely possible,” I suggested, rather mali- 


A TREASURE EOUND— A ftRlDE WON. 


51 


ciously, “ that Miss Winter may have cast her witching- 
spell over others before you appeared. I admit that 
it is decidedly strange, all things considered, how that 
rascally mate ever came by it ; but don’t flatter your- 
self that you are the first man that ever had a picture 
of your sweetheart.” 

Jack cast on me a look of withering contempt. How 
utterly absurd the romance of a man in love appears 
to a man just out of it ! 

“ Of course, I didn’t mean to call in question your 
sweetheart’s faithfulness in the least,” I continued, 
seeing how ridiculously hurt and vexed my friend was. 
“ Only I really don’t fancy that the fair antipodean has 
told you about all the men she has ever spoken to or 
ever exchanged phonographs with. Possibly you may 
have, stowed away somewhere in your memory, recol- 
lections of fair maidens whom you haven’t thought it 
necessary to mention to Miss Winter. The affair is 
serious enough in all conscience, especially when we 
remember that Morgan knew the object of the voyage. 
I will stand by you heart and soul in any plan of action 
you may have against him. I believe I have hitherto 
distrusted him even more than you have, and I candidly 
think that he is plotting the most disastrous things for 
us, which only the closest watchfulness will enable us 
to avoid. Does he know where the island is ?” 

“ No. He asked me in regard to it a week or so after 
we sailed. I didn’t know before whether he was ig- 
norant on that score or not. I refused point blank to 
answer his question, and we had some sharp words, 
but nothing came of them. I finally told him that 
when we obtained the treasure I would see that he re- 
ceived a fair share of it, and this seemed to satisfy him. 

I supposed that all he wanted was part of the money, 
but that picture puts a different light on the matter.” 


52 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


“ If we knew just what his acquaintance with Flor- 
ence amounts to and how far he is aware of your rela- 
tions to her, we should have a key to the mystery," I 
said. “ My own advice would be to have it out with 
Morgan at once. Tell him what you have discovered, 
inform him of your engagement, and demand a full 
explanation of how he came by the picture, and his 
knowledge of the island. If he refuses to answer, or 
attempts to deceive, as he probaby will, put him in 
irons and under close guard till the voyage is over." 

“ I guess you are right, Carl," said Harding, after a 
little silence. “ It has always been my misfortune to 
feel obligations rather keenly, and I am invariably re- 
minded of that Calcutta affair in connection with Mor- 
gan. But in the light of what you have told me, I 
cannot put off action against him longer. I will have 
him under guard to-morrow, unless he clears the whole 
thing up. I 'm too much fagged out to do anything 
until then. Good-night," and my friend was asleep 
almost before the words were spoken. 

Morgan did not appear in the morning, but his ab- 
sence was attributed to weariness and lack of sleep, 
and it occasioned little comment. When, however, 
later in the day, he failed to relieve the second mate. 
Jack began an investigation. After listening keenly 
at Morgan’s cabin, he called out : 

“ Come here, Carl, and see what you make of this." 

The thickness of the door, which was considerable, 
deadened the sound. I could detect a noise as of heavy 
breathing, broken by an occasional muttered exclama- 
tion. 

“ Better open the door. There is something wrong," 
I remarked. 

It was locked, but the key being pushed out, the 
door readily yielded to a key from another cabin. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

Morgan lay stretched upon the floor. His unseeing 
eyes, wild and bloodshot, rested upon us as we entered. 
His breath came in quick, labored gasps, while the 
meaningless babble of delirium poured unceasingly 
from his lips. He had apparently fallen from his bunk, 
as there was a bad bruise on his forehead, from which 
the blood oozed slowly. He was plainly a very sick 
man. 

Either the envenomed soul, which could not brook 
the humiliation of defeat, had, in its reaction uoon it- 
self, disorganized the splendid body, or the germs of 
disease, lurking there in secret, had, in the hour of 
physical exhaustion, gotten the upper hand. 

Lifting the sufferer to his couch, we made him as 
comfortable as possible. Fever had imprisoned the 
man more securely than bolts and bars could have 
done. Two sailors were detailed to care for him, and 
to administer the simple remedies which \he Janet's 
medicine-chest afforded. By night there were all the 
symptoms of a well-marked case of typhoid fever. For 
four weeks the man struggled with the disease, which 
raged with increased fury because of the perfection of 
the body or which it preyed. Strangely enough, it 
was a simple matter to care for the mate, since, though 

[S3] 


54 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


continually delirious, he was not violent, his body 
seeming to withstand the assaults of the malady in a 
state of quiescence. A sailor was kept constantly at 
the bedside, while I frequently haunted the sick-room 
in the hope that the fever might open the sealed lips 
and reveal the machinations of the heart ; but, although 
he raved about all things else, there was never a ref- 
erence to Florence Winter or the buried treasure. The 
man at last conquered. On the twenty-ninth day the 
crisis passed, and when Morgan opened his eyes from 
the restless sleep into which he had fallen, the baffled 
distemper had departed, leaving a strengthless body, 
but with infinite capacity for recovery. His illness had 
banished all thought of his imprisonment ; and when 
convalescence began Harding informed me that he 
had decided to get rid of Morgan at Cape Town, taking 
no action until then ; a plan which I heartily com- 
mended. 

Fair weather and fresh breezes favored the Janet in 
the meantime, and despite the unfortunate events of 
the voyage and the uncertainty of its result, I found 
myself enjoying it vastly. The quiet, restful days 
were far from monotonous, while the grandeur and 
beauty of the sea were a continual delight to me. We 
were headed for Cape Town, Jack having decided to 
touch there to replenish our water and vegetables be- 
fore starting on the final run through the South Pacific-, 
and Indian Oceans. We were now more than two. 
months out, and three weeks ought to bring us to Table 
Bay. 

Excellent as had been our progress, Harding was 
growing impatient, for he piled sail on the old hooker 
as though determined to tear the masts out of her, and 
finally, one morning, I found the crew engaged in rig- 
ging up a new main-topgallant mast. Ross was in 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


55 


charge of the job* He was very popular with the men, 
who responded to his commands with cheerful alacrity, 
and the hoarse yet not unmusical songs with which 
they enlivened their work seemed a piece with the 
rush of the wind and the boiling of the surges as they 
dashed into foam against the bow of the brig. A 
strong wind came straight from the north, which was 
kicking up something of a sea, but the sun had risen 
gloriously, and everything indicated fair weather. Far 
on the horizon, hull down, was a solitary sail. For 
over six weeks we had seen no sign of a ship, and the 
knowledge that the spot, a mere white speck, in the 
distance, bore men, and, perhaps, countrymen, warmed 
our hearts with a vital interest. Nowhere does the 
society of one’s fellow-men seem so precious as at sea. 
Nowhere is their mere proximity so desirable. A ship, 
lying at her dock and surrounded by objects smaller 
than herself, seems a bulwark of strength and security, 
but, tossing alone on the ocean, her real insignificance 
and weakness, as compared with the mighty element 
on which she floats, thrust themselves into uncomfort- 
able prominence. Man, in his feebleness, has placed 
himself completely at the mercy of nature. And nature 
proves kind, as is her wont. Though she claims as her 
own one fated ship in a thousand, the others she bears 
in safety over her fathomless wastes to their distant 
destinations. Thus we wanderers on the southern 
seas looked eagerly at the bit of canvas, which grew 
perceptibly larger until it was evident that we should 
be able to speak the stranger, unless she shifted her 
course. Within an hour we could make her out, a 
large, full-rigged ship, and deep in the water. Though 
the breeze was strong, she was carrying all plain can- 
vas, even to the tiny sky-sails, and under the tremen- 
dous pressure, she was fairly hurling herself through 


56 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


the seas, white clouds of spray flying over her shapely 
bows. 

Rapidly the two vessels drew near. When the ship 
was half a mile distant, Jack ordered the colors hoisted 
and signaled that he wished to speak. Eagerly we 
watched for the answering flag, for speculation on her 
nationality had run high. Harding and Ross thought 
she was an American, while Morgan, who was now 
able to be on deck a little while each day, positively 
asserted that she was of English build. As her ensign 
mounted to the peak and the wind caught and straight- 
ened its folds, the captain’s conjecture proved correct, 
for the stars and stripes met our delighted eyes. Never 
had the glorious flag seemed so fair. It was worth 
taking the voyage, with all its risks and uncertainties, 
to realize how precious one’s country really is. .Sud- 
denly the stranger hoisted a new signal, indicating that 
she wished to send a boat. Harding had only expected 
to hail the ship for the purpose of verifying his longi- 
tude. The wheel was put hard over, thus bringing the 
brig into the wind, and with topsails aback, she lay 
courtesying a friendly greeting to her neighbor. At 
the same time the ship was brought to and a boat low- 
ered, which soon appeared climbing over the long. 
South Atlantic swell, manned by four sailors, with a 
weatherbeaten man in the stern. 

A rope was cast to them as they neared the brig, up 
which the officer, a thin, nervous man, with cleanly 
shaven face and iron-gray hair, nimbly scrambled. 
Introducing himself as the first - mate of the ship, 
which was called the Boreas, he made known his 
errand. 

They had left Singapore some weeks ago, bound for 
Boston. Bad weather had driven the vessel to the 
south and kept her there, when they ought to have 


A TREASURE FOUNT) — A BRlDE WON. 57 

been well northward. Some of the beef had spoiled, 
and this, with the delay and loss of part of the bread, 
had reduced them to short rations. Could we supply 
them with enough to carry them to St. Helena ? As 
we were to touch at the Cape, Jack thought we could 
accommodate the Boreas^ especially when he learned 
that her commander was an old acquaintance. The 
mate was invited below, where we soon pledged one 
another in excellent punch of Harding’s brewing, while 
the sailors made themselves at home among the Janet's 
crew in the forecastle. In the meantime, the pro- 
visions were bundled into the boat, which was soon 
alongside the ship. With a rush it was hoisted on the 
davits, the helm was put up, and the Boreas, coming 
into the wind, bent before it until her main-yard well- 
nigh touched the water. Then, with a mighty bound, 
the huge fabric leaped away on her course toward the 
distant north, greeted as she swept past us by the 
cheers of officers and men. Just then her captain 
ordered some hands aloft to reduce sail. We could see 
them racing up the rigging in hot rivalry. Ropes were 
let go, and in a trice the sky-sails and royals were 
beating furiously on the yards. Suddenly a dark ob- 
ject dropped from the height of the main-royal. Every 
man of us knew what it was. A sailor had lost his 
hold or a rope had parted. Down he fell like a shot, 
striking the top-sail, which was bellying out as stiff as 
iron in the wind. Rebounding, he disappeared in the 
smother of foam below. An officer rushed to the side 
as the vessel dashed on, and cast a life-buoy toward 
the spot where the man had struck. The ship was put 
about as quickly as possible, but such was her mo- 
mentum that a long stretch of angry sea lay between 
her and the drowning man before she could be brought 
to. Fortunately, the life-buoy fell near the sailor, who 


5$ A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 

rose to the surface and, after swimmings aimlessly 
about for a minute — the fall having apparently stunned 
him — saw the buoy, which a few strokes brought 
within his reach. A boat, which had in the meantime 
been lowered from the Boreas, was rapidly approach- 
ing the struggling man. His safety seemed assured, 
and Jack was about to let the brig fill away on her 
course when a frightful shriek pierced the air, and we 
saw the sailor endeavoring to pull himself up out of 
the water, while he tossed in agony the bleeding stump 
of his leg, which had been bitten clean off at the knee. 
Then came a violent commotion among the waves, and 
a huge shark threw itself bodily out of the sea upon 
the unfortunate sailor as he clung to the life-buoy. 
There was one cry, long-drawn and pitiful, and the 
doomed man disappeared. Sorrowfully his companions 
rowed back to the ship, the yards were braced, and the 
Boreas again sped on her course, with one man miss- 
ing. Within an hour both vessels were far from the 
spot where the tragedy occurred. 

How suddenly had this human life been ex- 
tinguished ! One moment a man alive with strength 
and vigor ; the next a mangled carcass in the belly of 
a sea monster ! Whether he died unmourned, or 
whether there was wife or child or parent to grieve in 
horror over his awful end, I never learned. So deep 
an impression did the event make on me that, on my 
return to America, I endeavored to learn something of 
the man ; but his memory seemed to have been swal- 
lowed with his life, for no trace of him could be found. 
The log-book of the Boreas, which I succeeded in ob- 
taining when the ship, was loading at Boston, some 
three years later, contained the brief entry : 

William Thomas, able seaman, fell overboard May 2, 1882, 
and was lost.” 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


59 


The vessel was in command of a new captain, and, 
despite a careful search, I was never able to find any 
of. the officers or crew who manned her on the occasion 
of our meeting in the lonely South Atlantic. 

The breeze held strong during the day, but toward 
evening it moderated, and with every thread of canvas 
spread, even to the royal studding-sails, the Janet 
steadily moved on her course. It was a glorious semi- 
tropical night. The moon rose full-orbed at ten o’clock, 
the sea resembling the ball-room of a fairy world, as it 
glistened in the vague and eerie light. There was an 
occasional rustle aloft among the folds of canvas, as 
the wind sighed through the cordage as gently as a 
lover might breathe his vows into the willing ear of 
his listening mistress. A sailor leaned sleepily on the 
wheel, while the rest of the watch, snugly stowed away 
in odd nooks and corners, slumbered as soundly as 
their mates in the forecastle. Ross was in charge of 
the brig. He had been very silent since the row with 
Morgan, though he had apparently no feeling against 
either Harding or myselfi To-night, however, he 
seemed disposed to talk, and the death of the sailor in 
the morning led up to the hardships and dangers of a 
seaman’s life. 

“ The life itself is hard enough," remarked Ross, 
“ but the cruelty and harshness of the officers are the 
worst of it. Few skippers and mates treat their men 
as though they were human. It isn’t so much the out- 
and-out cruelty, perhaps, as the cold-blooded indiffer- 
ence and contempt, and the total disregard of their 
safety, that makes the life a bitter one to sailors. Any- 
body, with any manliness in him, can stand exposure 
and hardship if his work is appreciated and reasonable 
thought shown for his comfort and safety ; but that 
i§n’t the case," 


60 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


Ross gave a hard little laugh as he continued : 

^‘The worst case of inhuman heartlessness I ever 
came across was when I was able seaman on a brig called 
the Tartarus. We had just sailed from Baltimore, 
bound for Rosario. There was a favorable wind, and 
the captain was anxious to take advantage of it and 
get out of the bay and to the sea, as there were some 
signs of bad weather. Every rag was spread on the brig, 
and she was doing a good ten knots. One of the 
crew was a fellow named George Holden, one of the 
strongest men I ever saw, and a wonderful swimmer. 
He was a good-hearted chap, George was, and every- 
body liked him. This was his second voyage in the 
TartaruSy and the officers knew how good and willing 
a sailor he was. Well, the wind kept freshening, and 
finally the old man had to reduce his canvas. George 
went aloft, and as he was laying out on the main-yard, 
in some way he lost his hold — he always was a reckless 
fellow aloft — and overboard he went. He came to the 
surface, none the worse for his fall, and struck out for 
the brig. We were all waiting for the order to heave 
to — there wouldn’t have been any need of launching 
a boat, for George would have been aboard before it 
could have got away — but the skipper held right on, 
and never an order came. I heard the mate ask him 
if he wasn’t going to pick the man up, but he growled 
out that if the infernal fool didn’ know enough to hang 
on, he could drown, for all he cared ; and when one of 
the crew asked if they couldn’t lower a boat, the cap- 
tain knocked him down with a marline-spike. Well, 
sir, for more than a mile Holden followed the brig, 
swimming as I never supposed a man could swim be- 
fore. Of course, she dropped him after awhile. There 
were life-buoys enough aft, but none of the officers 
dared to heave one overboard. George was never 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON 


61 


heard of again. No doubt he was drowned, as there 
wasn’t a vessel or land within twenty miles. Murder ? 
Of course it was ; but what can you do about it ? The 
crew scattered at the end of the voyage, and courts and 
juries won’t take the oaths of forty sailors against that 
of a single officer anyway. Seamen are so used to such 
things that they don’t even remember them a great 
while. You will say that we ought to have made the 
old man heave the brig to, but mutiny is mighty tick- 
lish business, and then it isn’t so easy to mutiny in the 
face of loaded revolvers. In such a matter the mates 
will almost always stand by the captain. All a sailor 
can do is to drink a glass to the memory of his ship- 
mate, and hang on harder himself when he goes aloft. 
I don’t remember that the skipper of the Tartarus was 
particularly hard on his crew. He was in a hurry to 
get to sea, and didn’t feel like stopping to pick up a' 
sailorman, that ’s all. It ’s such things that make the 
life intolerable. You shouldn’t think men would fol- 
low the sea for the poor feed and wretched wages, 
with ill - treatment thrown into the bargain. But 
there ’s nothing else they can do. A man who has 
knocked about on the ocean a few years ain’t fit for 
anything else, and many sailors don’t know enough and 
haven’t ambition enough to better their condition, any- 
way. They don’t know anything better, and couldn’t 
tell how to get if they did. An officer’s berth is hard 
enough. Heaven knows, but our pay does amount to a 
little something, and we are able to stay ashore the 
last of our lives, if we live long enough to have any.” 

“ Is the mortality among seamen so great ?” I in- 
quired. “ I have had a notion that the dangers of the 
life were rather overestimated.” 

I admit the loss of life is not so great as might 
seem at first thought,” replied the mate. ” Still, it is 


(53 


A TREASURE FOUND A DRIDE WON. 


very great. In every severe gale the sailor always 
stands a good chance of being washed overboard by 
seas breaking over the ship. Falls are numerous, 
though many of them are due to carelessness, and there 
is always the peril of loss at sea or shipwreck on the 
coast. The seaman’s risks are greatly increased by 
niggardly owners, who send unseaworthy crafts to sea, 
improperly loaded. Such a vessel runs into a hurri- 
cane, her cargo shifts, and over she goes on her beam 
ends, and the probability is that she will be turned 
bottom up before the masts can be cut away and she 
has any chance to right. Poor food and exposure get 
in their work, though the purity of the sea air largely 
makes up for this. But you won’t find many old sail- 
ors ; but few reach the age of forty. The officer, of 
course, has a better chance. He isn’t obliged to go 
aloft very often, and his food is about as good as it could 
be under the circumstances. His danger in time of ship- 
wreck and disaster is as great, however, and his respon- 
sibilities sometimes wear on him considerably. Take 
the business all in all, it is about the meanest a man 
could follow. And yet they say that seafaring men 
are uneasy, and dissatisfied with steady work ashore. 
But I intend to try the experiment for myself some 
time, and I ’ll bet I sha’n’t hanker for any more sea in 
mine. Good night, sir. Here comes the captain, and 
it ’s my time to turn in.” And the little mate hurried 
below, whither I soon followed. 

A lively breeze sprang up during the night, and 
morning found the brig tearing her way through the 
waves under reefed top-gallants, and making hard work 
of it at that. It seemed to a green hand more sail than 
she could carry to advantage, but Harding would not 
hear of a reduction. The vessel fairly jumped from 
sea to sea, gcgasionally shipping a green billow, \vhich 


A Treasure found — a bride woi^. 6^ 

came tumbling aft with a wild rush, sweeping the deck 
of everything movable, and gushing through the scup- 
pers with a hoarse gurgle that harmonized well with 
the piping of the wind among the groaning spars. 
Harding remained on deck all day, and it was chiefly 
due to his admirable seamanship that some of the sails 
did not carry away. But he held on a trifle too long. 
The wind continually stiffened, and late in the after- 
noon a gust of unusual violence struck the brig. There 
was a crack, rifle-like in its sharpness, and away went 
the main-topgallant, blown clean out of bolt-ropes. 
Scarcely had two hands sprung aloft to furl the 
fore-topgallant when it followed its companion. It 
was pretty plain that a squall was coming, and every- 
thing was made snug aloft in readiness for it. Down 
it swooped, a little tropical tempest, and for an hour 
we ran before what threatened to develop into a hurri- 
cane. It proved short-lived, however, and by evening 
the Janet again showed all available canvas to the fair 
wind which the rising moon brought with her. For 
the two succeeding weeks there was uninterrupted fine 
weather, and a succession of strong winds, rising to the 
violence of gales each night, enabled the brig to make 
a remarkable run. On May i8th, according to the 
reckoning, we were close on the African coast, and 
about noon a man aloft sang out : 

“ Land away on the lee bow !” 

Looking sharply, a faint smudge could be discovered 
far away on the horizon, which would have appeared a 
cloud to any but a sailor’s eyes. They are rarely mis- 
taken in such a matter, and a few hours brought the 
low coast of South Africa into plain sight. Before 
nightfall the chains rattled through the hawse-holes, 
and the Janet swung quietly to her anchor as it lay 
deep in the mud of Table Bay. 


64 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


Jack at once ordered the quarter-boat lowered, and 
leaving the second mate in charge of the brig, we were 
soon ashore. Morgan, who no longer showed any 
effects of his sickness, had asked to accompany us. He 
gave no reason, but the request was natural enough, 
and Jack told him to come along. On landing he at 
once hurried away into the town. Eleven o’clock was 
the time set for returning to the brig, and after order- 
ing the sailors to report promptly at that hour, we 
started for a stroll through the place. It was a delight 
to again set foot on land, and enjoy the familiar earthy 
feeling which I could never find on the deck of a ship, 
while the sight of one’s fellowmen, Dutchmen though 
they largely were, did the heart good. Nearly thirty 
deep-water vessels were at anchor in the bay, from a 
tiny Danish brigantine of barely a hundred tons to the 
huge East Indiaman ; and the bands of sailors, ashore 
on leave, made the town lively enough with their shouts 
and songs, varied by an occasional street fight. The 
drinking places were doing a thriving business, for if 
Jack has a dollar when ashore, it is pretty sure to go 
for rum. Yet one can almost pardon his carousals, 
vicious and brutal though they are, for his life is sadly 
monotonous at best, and the untrained longing for 
amusement and delight leads the poor fellow into wild 
excesses. But the sailor’s vices are, as a rule, of the 
body, not the heart, and he often preserves that essen- 
tial uprightness of the will which is the tap-root of all 
that is worthy in manhood. 

We strolled aimlessly about, visiting the principal 
hotels in search of acquaintances whom Jack might 
have among skippers and mates congregating there, 
but finding none, and at eleven o’clock we were at the 
pier. Morgan was missing, as was also the sailor 
Frank, who had figured in the fracas between our two 





















A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


65 


mates. After waiting half an hour, Morgan having ar- 
rived in the meantime, we put off for the brig, con- 
cluding that liquor had gotten the better of the fellow, 
aud that we should see nothing of him before morn- 
ing. 

A faint haze had settled over the bay, so that we 
could barely make out the shadowy form of the brig 
in the distance. All the vessels lay dark and silent, 
their size magnified by the mist, though, as we passed 
a small American sjiip, the twanging of a banjo in the 
forecastle told of the sailor’s hornpipe and a jolly time 
below. 

“ I wish I knew how that precious first-mate of ours 
spent the evening,” I remarked, as we descended into 
the cabin on reaching the Jajiet, “ By the way, how 
do you intend to dispose of him here ?” 

“ I have thought better of my determination in that 
matter,” said Jack, seriously. “ If our fears are really 
without foundation, there is no need of our giving him 
the slip. On the other hand — and this phase of the 
matter occurred to me only recently — if he is really 
plotting for my injury, he is much better on board the 
brig than elsewhere. I don’t dare to leave him be- 
hind when I think of the evil which his desire for re- 
venge might lead him to inflict on Florence. He could 
hurt me through her more cruelly than in any other 
way. Our wisest course is to retain him, keeping care- 
ful watch for treachery. His outbreak against Ross 
was the result of momentary ill-temper. Otherwise 
his conduct has been unexceptionable. I know your 
opinion is most valuable, old fellow, and I will promise 
to put Morgan under lock and key when the treasure 
is once on board, if you so desire ; but I ’m sure there 
will be no trouble till then. As for his whereabouts 
to-night, I don’t see what harm he can do in such a 


66 


A TREASURE POUND — A BRIDE WON. 


place as Cape Town and at this late day. If there was 
any plot, it was laid months ago, when Table Bay 
couldn’t have entered into it, for he did not know that 
we should touch here. We will keep our eyes peeled 
for him, and I guess we shall manage all right. Good 
night.” 

I could not feel the light-hearted indifference of my 
companion, for I was sure that Morgan had been en- 
gaged in some mischief during the evening. By a 
careful study of the man, I had come to understand 
something of his feelings, self-possessed and subtle 
though he was. A strange pallor marked his face when 
under the influence of strong excitement, and I had 
noticed this from the light of a passing lantern as he 
entered the boat on our return to the brig. His voice, 
too, had been unusually smooth and supple, which, I 
had learned, indicated an internal struggle, with final 
self-mastery. How’^ever, there seemed some reason in 
Jack’s plan of action — at least I could suggest nothing 
better — and lying awake all night wouldn’t thwart any 
of Morgan’s schemes. Dismissing all troublesome 
thoughts of the fellow, I slept, only to be awakened by 
the swashing of water as the sailors scrubbed down the 
deck the next morning. 

Our first business was to procure a supply of water, 
and being in a hurry to get away, the boats were low- 
ered, water-casks put aboard, and, with the captain and 
each mate in charge of a boat, w^e put off. Harding’s 
boat reached the landing first. He had barely set foot 
on the wharf when an official-looking man addressed 
him with the words : 

“ Are you from the brig Ja7iet ?" 

I am her captain,” answered Jack. 

“ You are the man I want to see. A sailor from your 
vessel was found last night stabbed and dying. He 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


67 


was carried to the Somerset Hospital, with which 1 am 
connected, where he is now, barely alive. He cannot 
live more than a few hours.” 

“ I will come at once,” interrupted Harding. And 
after giving a few orders to the first mate, whose boat 
had just pulled up, he started off with the superintend- 
ent, accompanied by myself. 

A moment’s glance at Morgan revealed the pallor of 
his face, though it was so slight that no one not thor- 
oughly distrustful of the man and on the watch would 
have observed it. 

Entering a cab, a brisk drive of half an hour brought 
us to the hospital, where we were at once conducted 
to the room in which the dying man lay, apparently 
unconscious of our presence. Now and then a moan 
broke from his lips when the paroxysms of pain seized 
him. Stepping to the bedside, the doctor poured a 
little brandy into his mouth. Its effect was immediate. 
His eyes opened and he endeavored to turn toward us. 
As Harding bent over him, there was a look of recog- 
nition on the sufferer’s face. He glanced appealingly 
toward the brandy-bottle in the physician’s hand. The 
latter understood, and administered another draught. 
Then, in a feeble voice and with many a pause, the 
sailor told as well as he could the story of the assault. 




CHAPTER IX. 

The dying sailor said he had started for the boat, 
considerably under the influence of liquor, and on the , 
way had encountered a stranger, with closely-muffled 
face, who said that he was an old shipmate, and induced 
him — readily enough, no doubt — to enter a neighboring 
saloon for a friendly glass. After their dram they de- 
parted through a door in the rear. While crossing a 
vacant lot, the stranger drew a knife, and, after stab- 
bing him twice, fled. He had no notion as to the 
identity of his assailant, nor could he give any descrip- 
tion that would be of use in leading to his detection. 
The assassin had a peculiar air, however, and his vic- 
tim was certain that he had, at some time, known him. 
The two or three dollars in his pockets were untouched, 
and the man strenuously asserted that he had quar- 
reled with no one during the evening. The motive- 
lessness of the crime gave it a strong tinge of mystery. 
The police had been informed, but little was to be ex- 
pected of them in the matter. 

The sailer had been greatly weakened by the narra- 
tive. The limbs relaxed, and the eyes again closed. 
Could he have recovered, he would probably have been 
able to recollect his assailant, or to furnish a descrip- 
tion which would lead to his identification. The mind 
f 68 J 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


69 


was plainly wearing out as fast as the body. We 
arose, and were about to depart, when the surgeon 
said : 

“ Won’t you wait a moment, gentlemen ? The poor 
fellow will detain you but a little.” 

The man had already turned upon his back ; the 
eyes twitched violently, while his hands wandered over 
the coverlet. Then a swift convulsion passed through 
the dying body, a grin distorted the haggard counte- 
nance as the stiffened limbs relaxed, the head rolling 
helplessly to one side. The man was dead. 

We left the hospital as soon as the slight arrange- 
ments for the funeral and the disposal of the seaman’s 
effects had been made. Neither spoke for a long time. 
The same suspicion was in both minds. Had Morgan 
committed the murder ? Of course, there was not a 
scrap of evidence connecting him with the crime ; and 
it was hard to think that revenge for so trivial a cause 
could have carried the mate to such lengths. But the 
suspicion was there and would not down. Nothing 
could be done, however, under the circumstances, ex- 
cept to redouble our vigilance. 

We found the crew engaged in getting the water- 
casks into the boat. Morgan at once inquired about 
the sailor, and I fancied that he looked relieved on 
learning that he was dead. Nothing further was said 
about the matter, and officers and men were busy the 
rest of the day in getting the water and supplies 
aboard. Among other things, Jack had bought two 
pigs and a lot of fowls, which found quarters in the 
long-boat. The grunting and cackling gave a barn- 
yard effect to the deck, though adding a good deal to 
its domesticity and cheerfulness. As we gathered 
about the cabin table for supper, the best of spirits 
prevailed, and we did more than justice to the roast 


70 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


chicken and vegetables which the skill of the cook had 
provided. The sunlight streamed in through the cuddy 
windows, giving a bright glow to the faded upholstery, 
and was reflected upon the floor in long bands by the 
polished woodwork and clean glassware. But little 
remained to be done before starting on the final run 
through the Indian Ocean and the South Pacific, and 
Harding intended to sail by noon of the next day. 
Even the first mate departed from his usual reserve, 
and was quite talkative and merry. I proposed the 
health of Captain Harding, and hardly had the toast 
been drunk when Morgan rose, saying : 

“ Gentlemen, let bygones be bygones. Let ’s drink 
to the health and long life of Harry Ross, a good ship- 
mate, and an honest man.” 

He looked toward Ross, with a slight smile. The 
latter sat like a deaf man, giving no signs of pleasure 
or even of recognition. Morgan’s face darkened, but 
he turned it off with a laugh, and paid no attention to 
Ross’s subsequent refusal to drink a toast to himself, 
which Jack in the generosity of his heart had proposed. 
I thought that Ross showed to rather poor advantage, 
but concluded that after all he had merely been rather 
more honest than the rest of us. 

Early the next morning we made our final visit to the 
town. One or two articles had been overlooked, and 
Jack wanted to find a sailor to take the place of the 
murdered man. Hardly had the boat pulled alongside 
the landing when a short, badly pock-marked fellow 
touched his hat to Jack, and asked to ship with him in 
Janet. He had been left sick at Cape Town by his 
ship, and was dismissed from the hospital only yester- 
day. The man’s appearance was far from prepossess- 
ing, but the brig was short-handed, we were about to 
embark on the most dangerous and treacherous of seas, 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 'J'l 

and it was not always possible to pick up a sailor at 
the Cape on a moment’s notice ; so Hardingf, telling 
him to be promptly on hand in half an hour, went to 
complete his other business ashore. It was soon at- 
tended to, and a few minutes’ vigorous rowing, in which 
our new acquisition pulled a powerful stroke, brought 
us alongside the brig. The boat was hoisted to the 
davits on the run, and the orders to get under way 
came in quick succession. Several hands scampered 
aloft to shake out the light canvas, while the clanking 
of the windlass to the hoarse songs of the men sounded 
with wonderful distinctness in the sultry noon-tide. 
Within half an hour the Janet was standing out of the 
bay, under all plain sail. It was a beautiful day, the 
sun shining warm upon the low-lying coast with a 
peculiar radiance, which, while resembling the wan 
light of a northern winter day, but full of heat and in- 
tensely pale brightness, gave the landscape a touch of 
eeriness, suggestive of mystery and unreality. A 
strong wind came from the west, our course bringing 
it on the brig’s best sailing point, and she was soon 
turning off a good ten knots an hour. 

“ She ’s got the scent !” cried Jack, gleefully. “ Four 
weeks and less of this, and we ’ll be lying off Treasure 
Island, Carl, and only the run to Melbourne will be left 
to complete our little cruise. By the way, did you no- 
tice a queer thing that happened when the new sailor — 
Joe Handy, I believe he calls himself — came aboard? 
As he swung his bag on deck, he lost his hold, and a 
package, carefully tied up, fell with a loud thump, as 
though pretty heavy. He grabbed it as quickly as he 
could and hurried into the forecastle. It seemed a 
curious thing for a sailor’s bag. A present, perhaps, 
that he has picked up for some of his numerous Sals or 
Pollys.” 


n 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


Something that was given him at the hospital,” I 
suggested. “ He seems a lively chap, and he ’s a stout 
fellow, too. See him lay hold of that rope. He is do- 
ing twice the work of the other two.” 

The three sailors were hauling on the main-brace, 
Joe among them. His red shirt was rolled up to the 
elbows, revealing the knots of muscle as they bulged 
and strained at their work. The open shirt-front dis- 
played a physique that was simply superb in sinew and 
muscle. He had the air and action of a man of im- 
mense strength, and if he proved as willing and good- 
natured as he was strong, he would form a valuable 
addition to our under-manned brig. 

We were ten days out from the Cape, running before 
a strong breeze, with the feeling of more to come, when 
the watch reported some object away on the quarter, 
which looked like a floating mass of rock and sea-weed. 
After scanning the horizon hard with the glass, Hard- 
ing lowered it with a puzzled expression, remarking : 

“ Blest if I can make it out ! You take a look, 
Morgan. Your eyes are rather sharper than mine.” 

The mate did so, and at last said : 

“ I can’t say for certain, but I think it is a ship’s hull, 
though it is completely covered with some kind of green 
stuff.” 

Jack ordered the man at the wheel to let the brig fall 
off a couple of points. Ross had in the meantime 
come on deck, and he in turn was unable to make out 
what the floating object was. In a little while we had 
it in plain sight, but still gained no clue as to its iden- 
tity ; and it was only when we were within two hun- 
dred yards of it that all doubt of its being the wreck of 
a ship vanished. The stump of what had once been a 
bowsprit could at last be made out, but so completely 
was the whole mass overgrown with and enveloped in 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


73 


thick sea-grass, that even this was a matter of dispute. 
Her sides — about five feet of which showed above the 
water — were covered with the growth, which trailed 
out in long streamers in every direction, while her 
deck resembled the floor of a large artificial pond or an 
aquarium. Three mounds of sea-grass showed where the 
masts had once stood, while a lower and wider mound 
near the stern indicated the position of the cabin. If 
there had ever been a house forward, no trace of it was 
left. The seas continually washed over her, causing 
the grass, glistening in its dark greenness, to sway to 
to and fro in the sunshine. A more desolate object it 
would be hard to imagine. She was the ideal of a 
hopeless, abandoned wreck. A magnificently built ship 
she certainly must have been in her day, and with a 
buoyant cargo, to have endured the buffetings of the 
South Pacific for as long a time as the rank sea-growth 
indicated. 

“ Well,” said Morgan, “ that lays over anything in 
line of a wreck that I ever saw. She must have floated 
for years to get into that shape.” 

“ Suppose we send a boat to her,” I suggested. And 
despite Jack’s desperate hurry, which each day’s prog- 
ress only served to increase, so great was the curiosity 
excited by the wreck that he ordered a boat lowered, 
into which he leaped, followed by Morgan, myself and 
two sailors, and leaving the brig in charge of the 
second mate, we put off. 

The boat was first directed to the stern of the wreck, 
where it was hoped to find her name ; but she was too 
deeply sunk to make this possible. Often, however, a 
ship’s name is painted or cut into the side along the 
rail near the cabin, and we decided to clear away the 
sea grass and search there. It was a tedious and withal 
somewhat perilous job, as the weed was extremely 


74 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


tough and long, averaging fully eight feet, with an 
astonishing thickness and luxuriance, while the low 
hull afforded but scant protection against the surges, 
which were rapidly increasing in weight and violence. 
Finally the ship’s side lay exposed to view, water- 
soaked and eaten into by the vegetabl.e growth, so that 
it resembled punk more than wood. We saw at once, 
however, faint traces of a name. Harding had judged 
accurately of its location. Holding himself upright by 
means of a boat-hook caught into the railing, he slowly 
made it out. Two letters had disappeared, but Sar-c-n 
left little doubt of what it had been. 

On returning to America, I found, on investigation, 
that an English ship called Saracen had sailed from 
Portland in the autumn of 1878, with a cargo of Oregon 
spars. She was last spoken about five hundred miles 
north of Cape Horn, where she reported that six of her 
crew and the first mate were down with the small-pox. 
In all likelihood no offer of assistance was made, and 
that was the last that had been known of the Saracen. 
She had been posted as missing for five years. She was 
a new oaken ship, and the fatal voyage was her second. 
All these years she had been drifting about the South- 
ern Ocean, at last to be found by the Janet ^ ten thou- 
sand miles from the spot where she was last spoken. 
The fate of the crew could only be imagined. Whether 
they died one after another, until the last of her com- 
pany perished in horrible solitude in this floating 
sepulcher, or whether they were mercifully swept away 
by the tempests that must have raged about them in 
their despair, is but one of the many secrets that the 
ocean guards jealously as its own. 

The waves broke drearily over the wreck, which 
rolled among them like a dead weight. All life and 
buoyancy had departed long ago. 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


75 


We were about to return to the brig, our curiosity 
fully satisfied, when Jack ordered one of the men to 
scramble aboard and see if any traces of the crew 
could be found forward. A few seconds passed when 
a frightened yell broke the air with startling sudden- 
ness. 

** For God’s sake, help ! Something has got hold of 
me. 

Quick as a flash, Morgan sprang to the deck, followed 
by Jack and myself. At first we could not see what 
the trouble was, but the sailor was struggling prostrate 
in the dark grass, which, however, was neither so thick 
nor so long as that on the sides. Hastening forward 
with all possible speed, though much delayed by fre- 
quent falls in the slime of the grass, we, at last, could 
see a long tentacle wound about the sailor’s throat, 
while several others held his legs and arms in a tight 
embrace, another and a longer one waving viciously in 
the air. 

The situation was plain enough — a huge octopus had 
made its lair in this hole among the weeds, where the 
forecastle had once been, and had caught the unlucky 
sailor in its grasp. The man seemed nearly paralyzed 
with fright, and though he was struggling violently, it 
was to little purpose. 

“ Hurry back to the boat, Carl, and get a knife for 
each of us,” shouted Harding. “ Neither Morgan nor 
I happen to have one.” 

As quickly as I could, I tumbled back, and procuring 
two large sailors’ clasp-knives, returned to the scene 
of action. Harding was holding on to the seaman, 
whom the devil-fish was slowly but surely drawing 
toward its den, while Morgan endeavored to tear away 
the tentacle that encircled the fellow’s neck. Unclasping 
the knife, I inserted it beneath the writhing fold, and, 


76 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


with a quick cut, nearly severed it, thus relieving- the 
sailor’s throat from its clutch. Then the mate, seizing 
his arms, with a strong pull succeeded in releasing 
him from the tentaeles which grasped his legs. Panting 
and exhausted, the man struggled to his feet, and 
started for the boat, whither we were about to follow 
him, when a glance at Morgan checked us. His face 
was filled with the fierceness that transfused it when 
in a passion, but there was a. deep flush instead of the 
usual pallor. He had stepped forward toward the spot 
where the monster’s tentacles still waved gruesomely 
in the air. Suddenly bending over, he seemed poking 
the grass away from his feet. 

“ What are you doing, Morgan ?” called Jack. “ It ’s 
full time we were off for the brig.” 

He did not seem to hear, and before another word of 
command or remonstrance could be uttered, we saw 
him plant one foot against a projecting beam, and 
brace himself steadily ; then with a movement as quick 
as thought he grasped two of the longest tentacles, 
which the octopus still brandished from its lurking- 
place. We were too much astonished to speak. The 
foolhardiness of the act was appalling. Instinctively I 
started toward him. 

“ Keep away !” said Morgan, with a snarl. “ Let me 
master the thing alone. I shall not need your help.” 

His imperative tone brought me to a halt. No hos- 
tility toward the man influeneed either Jack or myself. 
No suspicion or dread could stand against the sight of 
a fellow-being engaged in such a struggle, however 
much it was of his own seeking. Standing a few feet 
distant, and ready to give aid when necessary, we gazed 
in faseination on the scene. It was a fit stage for so 
mad a struggle ; our little brig tossing on the surges, 
which gleamed faintly in the waning light of the after- 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


77 


noon ; clouds sweeping fitfully over the sky ; the weird 
wreck, with its slimy covering, over which the seas 
dashed with melancholy sighs and gurgles, and its 
gruesome tenant battling with its human foe. 

For perhaps a minute the octopus Remained quiet. 
Then the tentacles, which Morgan had caught some 
two feet below their ends, began to tighten and strain. 
The creature was trying to release them from the 
mate’s hold. It had had enough of the combat. I could 
see the fingers clinch more firmly into the leathery 
mass as Morgan resisted the fish's attempt to escape. 
His grasp remained unshaken. The squirming arms, 
writhe as they might, could not shake it off. Then the 
octopus changed its tactics. Four long arms were 
thrust forth from its lair, and wound themselves like 
serpents about its opponent’s legs. Another slimy 
branch of the fish, longer and thicker than any that 
had yet appeared, shot forth and wreathed itself lov- 
ingly about Morgan’s waist. Then they tightened. 
Quiver after quiver passed through them as the ten- 
sion increased. The beast was trying to crush its an- 
tagonist. There was something atrociously vicious and 
blood-curdling in the contractions of the squirming 
arms, reeking with the ooze of the rotten wood in which 
the fish had buried itself. For what seemed some 
minutes, though it was probably a good deal less, the 
constricting process went on. Morgan stood like a 
rock. The muscles of his arms seemed to stiffen and 
swell beneath the deadening pressure. So violently 
did his heart throb that its beating could be plainly seen 
beneath his shirt. It seemed making an extra 
effort to drive the blood through the tightly pressed 
veins and arteries. There was no look either of yield- 
ing or fear on the face. 

“Can you stand it, Morgan?” I was forced to ex- 


78 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


claim, as a contraction of unusual violence ran through 
the tentacles. 

There was no reply. His whole attention was em- 
ployed in the struggle. He had no doubt forgotten 
that we were present. 

Finding that the hold of the thing which grasped it 
was still unyielding, the creature ceased its contrac- 
tions, and again bent all its efforts to wrench its ten- 
tacles away from the clutch of its foe. They turned 
and twisted, darting in every direction with bewilder- 
ing speed, and Morgan was fairly enveloped in writh- 
ing serpents. Again and again the tentacles struck 
him full in the face with a noise that was heard on 
board the brig. But it was all of no avail. The mate’s 
grasp was relentless. And at last the contortions 
ceased, as though the creature, in exhaustion, was re- 
cruiting itself for a new effort. 

“ Let the thing go, Morgan,” shouted Jack. “ You ’ve 
conquered it already ; it wants to get away.” 

It won’t, though !” growled the mate, and with a 
quick movement he wound the parts of the tentacles 
which were below his grasp about his arms in two 
folds. Then bending forward as far as possible, he 
sprang suddenly back. He was trying to pull the 
devil-fish from its den. For a moment he stood mo- 
tionless, every muscle in arms and chest, in back and 
legs, standing tense, like bars and knots of steel. There 
was a slight yielding ; the octopus had been started a 
little. Still the mighty tug of the mate continued, and 
little by little it overpowered the strength of the mon- 
ster. At length Morgan braced himself anew, and 
with a final exertion of every sinew and muscle, the 
slimy horror was forced to release its hold. There was 
a wild rush of waving tentacles, followed by a large, 
sloppy bag of a body, in which two eyes gleamed with 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


79 


fiendish rage, and ere we could move a finger, the mate 
was wrapped from head to heel in the loathsome 
embrace of this spirit of the wreck. He still retained 
his upright position. Jack and I at once leaped to his 
rescue, but hardly had we drawn our knives when Mor- 
gan, with cat-like activity, released his hold on the 
tentacles. With a wrench, of which he only was capa- 
ble, he for a moment freed his arms from the enfolding 
clasp of the fish, threw himself forward upon its body, 
and clutched it firmly. 

Then followed an exhibition of muscular force which 
made all his other struggles seem but play. Rising to 
his feet, he shot both arms straight out from his body, 
and literally rent the body of the octopus in two, as 
one might break a thread or tear a piece of paper. A 
torrent of filthy blood poured from the body, deluging 
the mate, and staining the weeds among. which he 
stood, while a sickening odor filled the air. The ten- 
tacles gradually relaxed their hold, and we easily re- 
moved them. Morgan had scarcely been freed from 
the arms of the fish, when a huge wave broke over the 
wreck, throwing us violently to the deck, and we were 
saved from being washed overboard only by grasping 
the sea-grass. The billow swept the body of the octo- 
pus and all the filth clean from the deck, leaving no 
trace of the desperate contest. 

Regaining our feet, we made our way to the boat in 
silence. The sea and wind were rising ; it was time 
that we returned. 

“ That 's the grandest exhibition of strength I ever 
saw in my life, Tom,” said Harding, enthusiastically, 
as we pulled rapidly from the wreck, over which the 
seas were now breaking furiously in quick succession. 

There isn’t another man living who could have 
done it.” 


80 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


“ Or would have been foolish enough to try it,” I 
could not help adding ; for, immensely as I was im- 
pressed by the mate’s strength and courage, I could 
not forget the foolhardiness of the act. 

Morgan said nothing in answer to Jack ; his face 
was still flushed, though its flerceness had largely dis- 
appeared. But at my remark he smiled a little as he 
said : 

“ Yes, it would have been foolhardy for you, but not 
for me. I knew I could kill the thing ; there was no 
risk about it. Did you ever think it was going to get 
the better of me ?” 

I had to admit that he had had the upper hand from 
the start. 

“ No ; I have never yet matched my strength against 
either man or beast unsuccessfully. I wanted the bout 
with the fish for the pleasure of killing it.” 

And again he smiled, but the smile was far from re- 
assuring ; there was plainly a tinge of menace in it. 



I 



CHAPTER X. 

The sea had become very heavy, and the brig hav- 
ing drifted half a mile or more to leeward, the men 
had a hard pull to reach her. Morgan — who showed 
no signs of exhaustion from his struggle — and I each 
took an oar and aided in the work, while Jack baled 
out the water which occasionally poured into the boat. 
The Janet was making toward us, but the wind was 
not favorable, and the attempt didn’t amount to much. 
They sky had an ugly look, while away to the north 
lowered a mass of dun -looking clouds. There was the 
“ feel ” of a storm in the air, and as we climbed the 
great rollers which the north wind was tossing up, we 
cast many a longing glance toward the brig, and 
heartily wished ourselves aboard. At last we drew up 
alongside, scrambled to the deck, and hoisted the boat 
to its davits. We were plainly in for some heavy 
weather, but the Janet seemed a fortress of strength 
and safety, as I thought of the wreck wallowing in the 
completeness of its abandonment through the black 
waves of the Southern Ocean. 


[8i] 


82 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


Night and the gale had come on rapidly. The brig, 
under close-reefed fore-topsail and staysail, was laid, 
as nearly as possible, on her course, but she rolled so 
horribly and shipped so much water that, after an 
hour’s trial we were compelled to run squarely before 
the storm. 

Going to my stateroom, I donned an entirely new 
outfit, for we had been soaked to the skin before we 
returned to the brig. The thumping of the seas 
against the counter, and the rush of water over the deck, 
only added to the delightful sense of coziness and 
warmth which the dry flannels imparted. Harding 
had taken charge of the deck, and Ross with the first 
mate were below, the latter in his cabin. I gave Ross 
an account of our experience on the wreck, but, though 
listening attentively, he gave no sign of interest or 
approval, and he soon relieved Harding, who hurried 
below for supper. He was plainly a good deal put 
out and finally said : 

“ Morgan, what do you make of this weather ? We 
are driving away from our course, and if the gale holds 
on long it will delay us a good deal.” 

“You haven’t told me yet where we are bound for,” 
said the mate quietly, but I detected a subdued excite- 
ment in his tones. 

“ No, so I haven’t, but I suppose I might as well. It 
is—” 

Just then I managed to catch his eye, and emphatic- 
ally shook my head. Morgan saw the gesture and 
grew slightly pale. Harding laughed a little uneasily 
and hesitated for a moment, looking at me as though 
wondering why I objected, but finally said : 

“ Let that go, Tom, till some other time. We are 
running out of our course now, and what I want to 
know is your opinion about how long this cursed gale 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


83 


is going to last. You have sailed these waters more 
than I, and ought to know something about it." 

Jack paused for an answer, and after a few moments’ 
silence, during which I noted the rapid play of color 
in his face, a sure sign of a struggle for self-control, 
Morgan said : 

“ You can’t tell much about a blow in this part of the 
world. The glass isn’t very low, and I don’t think it 
will work up a hurricane ; but the gales are often long- 
lived, and the clouds look full of wind. We shall have 
to heave-to a day or two, I think, and perhaps a good 
deal longer ;’’ and with this he rose and went on deck. 

My friend looked at me reproachfully. 

“ Why in the world, old man, shouldn’t I tell Morgan 
where the island is ? I don’t believe he means any- 
thing except to get a part of the money, and I quite 
admire him since he tore that devil-fish in two.’’ 

“I don’t see how you can be such a fool. Jack,’’ I 
retorted, half angrily. “ A deed of muscular bravery — ’’ 

“ It wasn’t mere muscle,’’ broke in Jack. “ It took 
mighty good moral and intellectual courage to carry 
on the fight with that infernal thing.” 

“ Call it what you will,” said I, “ moral bravery, or 
godliness, or what not, it doesn’t do away with all the 
mysterious things .connected with the man. I tell you, 
Jack, the only thing that stands between us and a death- 
struggle in the brig to-night is the fact that Morgan 
doesn’t know where the island is. Tell him, and he will 
do his best to murder us within twenty-four hours. You 
know we have grounds enough for suspicion, but I 
should distrust him if they were not half as strong. 
Look at that exhibition of strength to-day. Of course 
it was grand, but it hasn’t tended to set my mind at 
ease. I watched him carefully to-night — I do all the 
time, for that matter — and he was mightily disappointed 


84 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


when he failed to find out what he wanted to know, 
and it was hard work for him to keep from breaking 
loose.” 

“What you say may be true,” interrupted Harding ; 
“ but perhaps after all we are making a bugbear out 
of nothing.” 

“ Of course, pefhaps we are, but the probabilities 
are the other way. Explain Morgan’s knowledge of 
the object of the expedition ; explain his having your 
sweetheart’s picture ; explain the death of the seaman 
at the Cape, and the strange package the new man 
brought aboard, and you ’ll find Tom Morgan an honest 
man or an infernal scoundrel, and I haven’t much 
doubt which.” 

“ I suppose 1 ought to look at it as you do, but when 
things go smoothly for weeks, and Morgan does the 
splendid thing he did to-day, I forget my suspicions in 
my admiration.” 

“ So do I,” was my rejoinder, “ but they revive 
pretty quick when he begins to want to know the loca- 
tion of the island, apparently about the only thing which 
he doesn’t know. By the way, where do you keep that 
memorandum of your grandfather’s ?” 

“ I always carry that about with me.” 

“ You have never made a copy and left it lying about 
anywhere ?” 

“ Never. The memorandum is the only writing 
about the island.” 

“ Take good care of that and see that Morgan doesn’t 
get hold of it. If he does, there will be an explosion 
before we get anywhere near the island.” 

“ Perhaps you are right, old fellow,” said my friend, 
affectionately. “ It ’s best to keep on the safe side, any- 
way. I guess my admiration carried away my pru- 
dence. Only I sometimes think we are imagining more 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


85 


myster}^ than there really is. But our prudence will 
do no hurt if we are, and if things are as bad as you 
think we can’t be too careful. Keep your eye on me, 
and don’t let me do anything foolish. It ’s mighty hard 
for me to be suspicious about anybody for any length 
of time.” 

“ You haven’t had a lawyer’s experience. It ’s hard 
for me to think of any one without distrust. If you 
feel I am over-anxious, ask Ross some time. I guess 
he ’ll agree with me.” 

A crash like the peal of a good-sized cannon inter- 
rupted our conversation, and hurrying on deck, it was 
found that the reefed fore-topsail had blown away. 
The staysail was the only canvas that the brig now 
showed. We were still running before the gale, though 
it was full time that the vessel was hove-to. 

The blackness of the night was something alarming. 
The spars seemed buried in the clouds, so low did they 
hang. We were apparently shut in between two planes 
of inky darkness, between and into which we tossed 
and drove with terrific force. Occasionally the gloom 
was broken by a faint glimmer in the distance, as a 
breaking sea caught the few scattered rays that must 
have filtered through the layers of cloud from the moon, 
and the light of the cabin-lamp was reflected now and 
then in the surges as the brig bent before the might of 
the wind. Despite its violence, there was a feeling of 
suffocation in the air. The sea was steadily rising, 
the darkness making the billows seem supernaturally 
large, as they chased after the brig in her mad flight. 
For some reason Harding delayed to order the vessel 
hove-to. 

All hands were on deck, both from forecastle and 
cabin, the sailors forward seeking such precarious 
shelter as they could find from wind and waves. Sud- 


86 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


denly the swell became unusually heavy. Ross, who 
seemed to know what it meant, shouted : 

“ Look out ! A big wave is coming ! Hang on, or it 
will be the last of you !” 

With one movement we looked astern, and there we 
could see, lowering and rolling in the gloom, an enor- 
mous mass of water — one of the large, overpowering 
breakers which the ocean occasionally heaves up in a 
storm, as though to show the stores of might which it 
holds in reserve. 

“ Below with you !” yelled Jack. “ It ’s going to roll 
over us !” 

Hardly were the words out of his mouth, when the 
sea was upon us. In the darkness we had overesti- 
mated its distance. High over the stern it towered ; 
then, with a savage leap, it hurled itself down upon the 
deck as though to smash it in like card-board. In a 
moment tons of water had swept forward and rolled 
away over the bows. As the billow rose over the 
stem, I had instinctively thrown myself on the deck, 
hard against the bulwarks, where I clung tight to the 
stanchions, though at one moment my hold seemed 
giving way, so fierce was the wrench of the rushing 
water. Half drowned, I staggered to my feet, wonder- 
ing, in a vague way, whether the brig was really afloat. 
Harding and Ross had protected themselves as I had 
done, and stood near by, rubbing the water out of 
their eyes. Morgan had grasped the ratlines, to which 
he securely hung. I verily believe that I should have 
rejoiced had he been carried overboard. 

“Hallo, forward!” sung out Jack. “Are you all 
safe there ?” 

There was a shuffling of feet, and a confused sound 
of voices, one of which finally said in reply : 

“ All right, sir, except Joe. He 's killed/' 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


87 


Hurrying forward, we found the sturdy form of the 
sailor lying a limp and pitiful mass on the deck. His 
head and face were literally smashed to pieces, not a 
feature being distinguishable. Just how it happened 
was not known, as none of the sailors had seen the ac- 
cident, but he had probably started to catch hold of a 
rope, the sea had overtaken him and hurled him against 
the foremast, to which a few clots of blood were still 
sticking. But there was no time to speculate on the 
disaster. 

“ Bring the body aft,” said Jack. And with their 
gruesome load three sailors made their way to the 
cabin and placed the corpse in a vacant stateroom. 
Just then I caught sight of Morgan emerging from the 
forecastle and carrying something, I could not exactly 
make out what, under his arm. He paused to remark 
that the forecastle was flooded, and then hastily de- 
scended into the cabin. But the pressing question was 
whether the Janet had suffered any serious damage. 
The strain on her deck and hull must have been in- 
tense, making it only too likely that she had sprung a 
leak. The well was sounded, and three feet of water 
found in the hold. Whether the hull was still tight 
could only be determined by pumping her out, for the 
water might well enough have gotten in from above, as 
the sea swept the deck. The only wonder was that 
she had not been drowned outright by the depth and 
volume of the surge. Had she been heavily laden, 
such would inevitably have been her fate. 

Jack now realized his mistake in holding on so long, 
and he at once ordered the brig hove-to. This was ac- 
complished successfully, and though she rolled badly, 
dipping first one rail and then the other, we knew that 
she was comparatively safe. The men were then put 
at work on the pumps, Ross and myself lending a hand, 


88 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


and after a time our ears were rejoiced by the hoarse, 
sucking- sound which showed that the water was out of 
the brig, and that her hull was still tight. 

The wind blew steadily all night, though its violence 
did not increase. Dawn, however, showed no signs of 
its yielding. Dreary and desolate enough was the 
scene as I mounted to the deck in the cold gray of the 
morning. The sky was of the lifeless dun color which 
in'Sicates in the Southern Seas that a hard blow has 
set in. The surges still looked black in the faint light 
as they hurled themselves over the bow of the brig. 

The wave by which we had been boarded the night 
before had swept everything movable from the deck, 
including the pig and fowls, and had broken the rail 
in several places, giving the Janet a battered and woe- 
begone appearance. The barometer remained steady 
at the storm mark, and there was an undefined but dis- 
couraging sense of persistence in the gale which ad- 
mitted but little hope of its speedy breaking. The 
galley had been so completely flooded that the cook 
was unable to start a fire, and I missed the cheery col- 
umn of smoke which was usually pouring out of the 
funnel in the morning. Lost in the thought suggested 
by the forbidding spectacle of sea and sky, I had well- 
nigh forgotten the dismal duty awaiting us, until I 
heard Jack remark to Morgan, as they came on deck : 

“ We had better have it over as soon as possible. If 
the gale increases’we shall be unable to hold any serv- 
ice." 

It was the dead sailor of whom he spoke. 

“ Ross is sewing up the body, and will be through 
right away. Call all hands aft." 

Seizing a marline-spike, the mate made his way for- 
ward, and pounding heavily on the scuttle, gave the 
command. 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


89 


One by one the men appeared, and, grouped about 
the mainmast, stood shivering in the cold. A grave 
solemnity was on every stolid face, which the melan- 
choly surroundings served to intensify. Harding now 
ordered three of them to come forward. A word, and 
they disappeared down the companionway. Their 
errand explained itself. One end of a plank was 
placed on the rail, while two sailors supported the 
other. When the body had been brought on deck, it 
was placed upon the plank, a man standing on each 
side to keep it from rolling off. With bared heads, we 
listened to the service for the burial of the dead. 
Never before had I realized its profound significance. 
Never had immortality seemed so real or so near. The 
rushing of the wind through the rigging gave forth 
the notes of a supernal organ, while the ashen sky fitly 
symbolized departed life. As Harding uttered the last 
words, the Janet rolled her lee rail, on which the plank 
was resting, nearly under, as though she, too, shared in 
the ceremony and wished to accelerate the departure 
of the dead man to his final home. The sailors releas- 
ing their hold, with a quick plunge the body sank, 
while over it the heaving sea chanted its eternal liturgy. 
The men were given their breakfast, and prepared 
themselves for the day's battle with the gale. 





CHAPTER XI. 

And a battle it was. The storm was peculiar in that, 
while never rising- to the force of a hurricane, it con- 
stantly threatened to do so. The brig was in no im- 
mediate peril, but she required the most careful 
watching. Although he said nothing, I was convinced, 
by the glances which he occasionally cast aloft, that 
Jack was regretting having replaced all the spars 
which we had lost near the equator. But it was no 
time to lament over what might have been done. We 
knew how the Janet acted in bad weather, and her ter- 
rific rolling did not alarm us so much as it otherwise 
might. 

The short day wore slowly away. We were now in 
low latitudes ; 45 degrees 47 minutes was the result of 
the last observation, and we were driving south rapidly. 
Darkness came on early ; at four o’clock no midnight 
was ever blacker. Four days thus passed, during which 
the gale blew without a sign of cessation. Of course, 
no observation was posable, and our latitude was only 
a matter of conjecture, but the cold, which daily grew 
keener, told us plainly enough that we had driven far 
from our course and that we were rapidly approaching 
the regions of snow and ice. A general despondency 
pervaded the vessel. The dangers of the frozen seas 
terrified the men from their very vagueness, and raised 
[90] 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


91 


unconsciously, perhaps, dread forebodings in the minds 
of us all. We went to our bunks on the fourth night 
sulky and ill at ease, sick of the eternal howl of the 
wind, the ceaseless roar and tumble of the sea, of our- 
selves, and of one another. The next morning, how- 
ever, showed a slight change in the weather. The 
barometer had risen a little, and the wind had fallen off 
a bit, though the clouds were as dense as ever. By 
noon the gale had moderated so much that Jack deter- 
mined to head the Janet about and put her as near on 
her course as the wind would permit. 

Eagerly the men sprang aloft at the welcome orders. 
The topsails were shaken out, the helm put over, and 
the brig, rolling as though bound to shake her spars 
out, with her deck awash, swooped around and held 
away toward the east. 

For the rest of the day we thrashed to the eastward, 
making frequent and short tacks. The vessel labored 
heavily, and the sweat poured in streams from the two 
men at the wheel, as they struggled to keep her some- 
where near her course against the seas which dashed 
against her with ominous violence. Besides, the cold 
increased, and a heavy rain, with occasional flurries of 
snow, set in, freezing as it fell and coating deck, ropes 
and spars with a glazed covering of ice, making it im- 
possible for even the oldest sailor to keep his footing 
without support. Moreover, shut our eyes to it as we 
would, the wind was steadily regaining its lost force. 
To continue the effort to work to the east soon became 
madness. Already the brig was struggling desperately 
under her topsails, which were kept from blowing away 
only by the envelope of ice. 

The Janet was again put before the wind, and away 
toward the south we again rushed, not the warm and 
sunny south of the temperate zone, but the mysterious 


92 


TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


south of cold and ice, of tempest and black night. The 
topsails were tugging at the mast as though they would 
fly away with them, and all hands were ordered aloft 
to take in sail. Slowly and reluctantly the men obeyed. 
It was a perilous job, and they knew it. God knows it 
was hard work enough to hang on to the slippery rig- 
ging, with hands stiffening each moment with the cold, 
but when to this was added the task of getting in the 
frozen sails, it was enough to make the boldest hesitate. 
But the braces were let go, and the men, making their 
way over the foot-ropes, lay upon the yards. Fore- 
most among them were Harding and the second mate. 

Jack never asked his men to do a thing from which 
he would shrink himself, while Ross had jumped into 
the rigging when the order was given, without waiting 
for any suggestion. Five men were at work on the 
main top-sail, with four in the foretop. Time and 
again they were compelled to stop and beat their 
fingers against the canvas that they might not freeze, 
and with the constant rolling of the brig it was a won- 
der how the sailors could keep their places on the 
yards. But at last skill and patience conquered. The 
iron canvas yielded, and was rudely yet securely furled. 
Eagerly the crew sought the insecure protection of the 
deck. Before sending the men below the vessel was 
again hove- to. No cooking was possible in the galley, 
but we made a kettle of hot coffee on an alcohol lamp 
in the cabin, which, with a double allowance of grog, 
seemed to refresh the worn-out crew. The officer in 
charge was ordered to keep a sharp lookout for ice, for 
in this lay our greatest danger. The gale was not un- 
usually violent, but every mile that we drove to the 
south increased the peril. Should we encounter ice, 
the chances were that the Janet would lay her old bones 
on the bottom of the Antarctic, and ours along with 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


93 


them. To drive against a floe, with such a wind and 
in such a sea, meant immediate destruction. 

The night wore away without incident, but dawn 
showed no hope of any change in the weather. Gloom- 
ily we looked into one another’s faces. Ross alone 
seemed as cheerful and undisturbed as usual. He occa- 
sionally hummed a bar of his favorite tune, apparently 
unruffled by his long hours of vigil in the wet and cold 
of the deck. Jack seemed despondent, while Morgan 
had relapsed into absolute silence. 

Early in the morning there was a dense snowfall, 
lasting about two hours. So thick was it that we could 
hardly see to the end of the bowsprit. It was all a 
matter of luck now. If there were bergs in the vicinity, 
we could merely take the chance of missing them. The 
snow ceased as suddenly as it began, and then away to 
the south we saw the ice. There were several small 
masses, but the greater part of it consisted of floating 
islands, apparently the remains of what had once been 
a single floe. The waves broke clear over the smaller 
parts, while they dashed into foam and spray at the 
bases of the larger masses. The fields extended as far 
as we could see, the general trend being southeast. 
Had the snowfall continued half an hour longer, we 
should have run into the ice without warning, and in- 
evitably have been stove in. As it was, our situation 
was most critical. The gale was blowing furiously, 
and the idea of making sail and working back in the 
teeth of it had but to suggest itself to be dismissed as 
absurd. Probably we could manage to edge along the 
ice, and thus keep clear of it for a while, but the field 
was of great extent, and our prospect of escape in this 
way was slender enough. However, it was our only 
hope, and the nearness of the ice compelled its adop- 
tion at once. The helm was put hard down. The brig 


94 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


answered readily, but as she came around and took the 
wind squarely on her broadside, it proved too much 
for her. Over she went on her beam-ends and hung 
there, pinned down by the tremendous force of the 
gale. 

“ Ease her away !” yelled Harding. “ Quick ! She ’ll 
be bottom-side up !” 

The wheel flew around as fast as hands could drive 
it. Slowly and painfully the Janet rallied from the 
blow. It was a close call. 

“ Well,” said Ross, with a long breath, “ that ’s about 
as near capsizing and not doing it as ever I saw in all 
my going fishing !” 

It was hard to see just what had made the trouble, 
for though the attempted change in the course ex- 
posed the brig to the fury of the wind, we had not 
reckoned it violent enough to make the maneuver dan- 
gerous. 

The ice was now close at hand, and into it we drove, 
keeping the vessel free by steering her along the chan- 
nels of open water, which, averaging, perhaps, an 
eighth of a mile in width, separated the floes from each 
other. Nothing else could be done ; to avoid the ice 
was impossible. It was now full noon, and but three 
short hours of daylight remained. Careful manage- 
ment might enable us to clear the floes while the light 
lasted, but we must clearly find protection before night- 
fall or perish. So plainly was this thought in every 
mind that no one deemed it worth while to men- 
tion it. 

Even as it was, a sharp watch had to be kept forward 
to avoid the semi-submerged lumps which dotted the 
seas here and there. The sailors were huddled to- 
gether about the forecastle ; the rest of us shivered 
around the wheel. A scene of more complete and 


A TREASURE POUND — A BRIDE WON. 


95 


terrifying desolation could not be imagined. The floes 
■tretched away on every side beyond the sight, over 
Which the waves broke with malignant leaps, snarling 
Mke a pack of hounds over their quarry. The unutter- 
ible melancholy of the gray clouds was intensified by 
the cold which seemed to chill our very hearts and 
fcnes with its deadening touch. Into the surges 
plunged our forlorn and storm-driven brig, writhing 
under the fierce lash of the wind which sounded our 
dirge as it swept through the rigging. Ugh ! How 
I sweet life seemed ! How odious and appalling death ! 
It was enough to make even a stout heart quake to 
think of a dying struggle in those bitter waves, in the 
darkness and amid the horrors of such surround- 
ings. 

I, for one, was not stoical enough to view the pros- 
pect with fortitude or resignation, and inwardly I cursed 
the day that brought Harding to my office and the 
folly which led me to undertake the mad voyage. Not 
a word had been uttered for half an hour, but finally 
Jack stepped forward and called out : 

“ Come forward, men.” 

Eagerly the seamen obeyed, and gathered, a wretched 
group, about the mainmast, soaked to the skin and 
trembling with cold. Anxiety and terror marked 
every face. Harding came at once to the point. 

You don’t need to be told that we are in great dan- 
ger, and I want you to hear what your officers have to 
say about our situation. Then you can make any sug- 
gestions that you may have. For myself, I don’t see 
that we can do better than to stick by the brig. Have 
you anything to say, Mr. Morgan ?” 

The latter only shook his head. 

“ Mr. Ross ?” 

Ross hesitated a little before answering. Then, 


96 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


with his usual grimace when about to make a desperate 
proposal, he replied : 

“ It looks to me just like this, Captain Harding. If 
night comes on with us aboard the brig, we shall go ! 
to the bottom before morning. There 's no use hoping , 
to steer clear of the ice. Now I say that we had better | 
take to the boats and escape to the floes while we have | 
time.” I 

“ Will the boats live in such a sea ?” I interrupted. i 

“ Perhaps not. But we know that Janet is sure 
to be stove in if we stand by her. It 's our only chance. I 
Of course, it is a desperate one ; but it ’s better than j 
nothing, and I ’m for taking it.” | 

“What do you think of Mr. Ross’s proposal, Mor- j 
gan ?” inquired Jack. 

“ I don’t think anything about it,” growled the mate. 

“ What show for life should we have on the ice in this 
weather ? The brig ’s a good deal more comfortable, 
and I say stick to her.” 

Ross had walked to the rail, where he stood gazing 
nonchalantly into the sea and whistling softly. He had 
said his say, and seemed indifferent as to the result. 

“ How does it strike you, Carl ?” Harding appealed 
to me. 

“ I don’t know much about it, but I must confess that 
the prospect of a grave out there is mighty disagree- 
able. I think that Harry Ross’s opinion is generally 
worth considering. We had best flee to the ice if the 
Ja7iet is doomed.” 

Harding was silent for a few minutes. On drove the 
brig through the seas, which were already darken- 
ing in the waning light of the afternoon. I could well 
understand his hesitation, for the dearest hopes of his 
heart lay in the safety of the vessel, and they could 
not be overcome without a struggle. Finally turning 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 97 

to the CTew, who still hung expectantly about the 
galley, he said : 

“ I shall leave the decision with you. In a matter of 
life and death it is not my duty to decide for you. My 
judgment says abandon the ship, but my heart yearns 
to remain by her. All those who desire to leave the 
Janet and take to the ice will go over to the starboard 
rail.” 

For a moment the men eyed one another doubtfully, 
each waiting for the other to start. Then a grizzled 
seaman, with a “ Here goes, mates !” rolled over to the 
weather rail, and the rest immediately followed. There 
was but one sentiment among the crew. 

‘‘Mr. Ross, will you take charge and get the long 
boat provisioned as soon as you can. I must go below 
for a moment,” said my friend, and I could see the 
glisten of tears in his eyes as he hurriedly descended 
into the cabin, accompanied by myself. “ I want to 
pack up a few things with special care,” he explained 
“ It will take but a moment. I shall be on deck di- 
rectly.” 

My own kit was soon arranged. An abundance of 
clothing being the chief thing, I took all that I had, 
and, pack in hand, returned to the deck, where I found 
the men busily engaged in getting the long boat ready. 
Several casks of bread and beef had been put aboard, 
and some small kegs were being filled with water from 
the large butts in the hold, while a quantity of sail- 
cloth and fire- wood had been stowed away in the bows 
and under the seats. 

One of the light spars was ready to be stepped for a 
mast, on which a sailor was rigging a sail. The activ- 
ity and bustle gave the old hooker a more cheerful 
aspect than she had shown for a long time, and, though 
the situation was most precarious, the men worked 


08 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


eagerly and well. Jack had returned, and was direct- 
ing the preparations. 

In the confusion I had forgotten Morgan, and it had 
just occurred to me that he had disappeared, when the 
ice-incased rigging near by shook violently, and the 
mate leaped to the deck. Approaching Harding, he 
said, hurriedly : 

“ I don’t think that we need to leave the brig. I 
have been studying the ice, and about a mile ahead 
there is a big floe. There is open water on its western 
end, and here, as near as I can make out, a part of the 
floe has broken away, leaving a V-shaped gash running 
a good distance into the ice. If we can work round to 
the end, and up into the break, we shall be largely 
protected from the seas, and by anchoring her to the 
ice, shall have a fair chance of outriding the gale.” 

Jack sprang into the ratlines ere Morgan had fin- 
ished ; in a trice he was in the main-topgallant cross- 
trees, whence he gazed long and earnestly toward the 
south. Returning to the deck, he exclaimed to Mor- 
gan, who was impatiently awaiting his descent : 

“ It 's worth trying. The attempt may not amount 
to anything, but nothing can be worse than leaving the 
brig, and this is a forlorn hope, anyway. Shake out 
that foretopsail !” 

The men, who were hard at work getting the long- 
boat ready, stopped, looking aft in discontented surprise. 
Each had his pack on deck, ready to heave into the 
boat. 

“ Come, no hanging back there !” called Jack, angrily. 
“ Lay aloft and shake out that topsail, and be quick 
about it, too !” 

Reluctantly the sailors left their work and made 
their way to the yard. It was now two o’clock ; an 
hour’s light only was left. What was to be done must 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


99 


be done quickly. With difficulty the sail, which was 
frozen like iron sheeting about the yard, was unfurled. 

“ Hoist away !” yelled Morgan, and with a cheer it 
was sheeted home. Under its pressure the Janet flew 
over the seas like a terror-stricken animal before its 
pursuers. The strain on the topmast was terrific ; 
every moment it threatened to go by the board. But 
there was no time to lose ; the brig could be abandoned 
with her spars gone as well as with them standing. 
Two men were stationed forward and one in the cross- 
trees to watch for ice, while Harding, running to the 
foretop, conned the ship’s course. 

At the terrific speed which the extra canvas gave 
her, the Janet rapidly neared the floe, which, on closer 
approach, proved to be a huge ice island, stretching 
away as far as we could see to the east. It seemed 
likely that the broken ice which we had thus far en- 
countered had been originally parts of it. 

When the brig had been brought as near the floe as 
was safe, the helm was put hard over, and then began 
the hard task of edging along the island to the open 
water on the west. The wind coming straight from 
the north, we progressed by numerous short tacks, 
each of which nearly sent the brig on her beam ends. 
The deck was continually flooded by the seas, to escape 
which the men perched themselves in the rigging, 
where they were drenched by the clouds of spray which 
rose from beneath the vessel’s bows. Finally the open 
sea was reached, and the Janet was put before the 
wind. On she dashed, chased by huge seas which 
threatened to engulf her. Three times did these gigan- 
tic rollers topple over the stern and sweep the deck. 
How the men at the wheel managed to hang on I don’t 
know, but they did. A few minutes of such sailing, 
however, brought us opposite the entrance into the 


100 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


channel running into the ice. Into this we put. The 
sailors sprang to the deck, braced the yard around, the 
wheel flew over, and with a leap of exultation the brig 
bounded into the comparatively quiet water and was 
safe. Every one drew a long breath of relief ; blessed 
enough was the thought of escape from a grave in 
those black waters, and of again seeing home and 
friends. 

It was now dusk, and in the few minutes of light that 
remained, the vessel must be made fast to the ice. 
Lowering the jolly-boat, Morgan, with three sailors, 
carrying two powerful cables, made for the shore. 

A minute’s pull, and they leaped from the boat to 
the ice. A cable attached to the capstan was paid out 
and made fast to a hummock ; then a second running 
from the stern was similarly secured, and thus, for the 
time at least, the Janet lay as safe and snug as though 
tied up to her dock in Boston harbor. To be sure, 
under the pressure of the wind she tugged hard at her 
moorings, but with Morgan to look out for them, there 
was little danger of her breaking loose. So dark was 
it before the work was done that it was impossible to 
distinguish the forms of the men on the ice, and we 
hoisted a light in the main rigging to guide their re- 
turn. 

Everything was now made snug above. A double 
tot of grog was served to each man, and then the worn- 
out crew sought the warmth and protection of the fore- 
castle, except the single watch, who was ordered to 
report changes in the weather, and to particularly no- 
tice any movement of the ice. Not a word was spoken 
as we went below. Each man threw himself into his 
bunk, drew the coverings close about him, and slept 
the sleep, perhaps not of the just, but of the weary and 
the rescued. 



CHAPTER XII. 

As the gale increased, our narrow escape from de- 
struction grew upon us. The commotion outside our 
ice-locked lagoon was frightful, and we knew that in 
it, amid the tossing, grinding ice, the Janet could not 
have lived a minute ; while, had we abandoned her, we 
certainly could not have survived the bitter cold of the 
four succeeding days, during which the gale raged 
with undiminished violence, with a temperature 
scarcely varying from forty degrees below zero. Only 
the tremendous agitation of the water prevented our 
being solidly frozen in. Despite our temporary safety, 
the situation was most precarious. In a word, it all 
P depended on the ice. Should this, yielding to the per- 
. sistent action of the water underneath and around it, 

[ break up, our doom was sealed. And of all things, ice 
^ in the Southern Seas is most treacherous, especially on 
the edge of the antarctic circle, where our guesses 
placed us. Our main confidence lay in the extent of 
the field, which, from the masthead, stretched away an 
unbroken mass of bleak desolation east as far as the 
eye could reach. As we speculated on our condition, 
the chief question was the direction of the drift of the* 
floe, for unless it was a part of a mass extending in- 
(^efinitely southward, it must be working either to the 



102 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


north or south. The wind came from the north with 
immense violence ; but the ice lay low in the water — 
there was scarcely a hummock twelve feet high — and 
it seemed likely that the currents would determine the 
drift. If this was north, we should have a fair chance 
of escape with the end of the gale ; but if the trend of 
the floe was south, an increase in the cold might freeze 
the brig in, when the question of her release would be- 
come serious indeed. All these matters were discussed 
by Harding and the first mate at great length. Ross 
never joined in general conversation in which Morgan 
took part, while the latter had shown a marked cold- 
ness toward me since my interference to prevent his 
learning the location of the island. Jack, however, 
insisted on consulting me even in affairs of which I 
knew but little, and Morgan was thus compelled to give 
me his attention. 

Anxiety reigned aft, but the crew in the forecastle 
enjoyed themselves hugely. Present safety and relief 
from the grinding toil of sea and gale were enough for 
them, and afternoon and evening their jolly songs and 
breakdowns resounded through the brig. I shall long 
remember an evening spent with the sailors during 
our stay in the ice. It was the fourth night, and the 
gale still continued, though a rise in the thermoipeter 
gave hope of its speedy breaking. It had been a gen- 
erally disagreeable day with us aft. Ross was under 
the weather with a hard cold, and stuck closely to his 
stateroom. Morgan was speechless, while Jack found 
more pleasure in poring over a lot of old letters than 
in my society. The brig, besides, wasn’t a very com- 
fortable place in cold weather, coated as she was with 
ice, and with a very indifferent stove to warm the cabin 
with. I am inclined to think that the cook, in his 
tight little galley, was the only person aboard who 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


103 


kept really warm, but it contained room for but one, 
and he made a point of always being there, except 
when serving our meals. 

I had amused myself with solitaire until the amuse- 
ment had become disgusting, and after supper, in sheer 
weariness, I threw the cards into a corner and went 
on deck. It was again snowing heavily, making it im- 
possible to see more than a few feet away. The cables, 
magnified by the snow which gathered on them, seemed 
stretching away into nothingness, giving the brig the 
appearance of being moored to some ghostly pier, or 
held in place by spirits tugging at the unseen cable’s 
end away out in the falling snow. The wind blew fit- 
fully, sending flurries through the falling masses as, 
with a low hiss, they blended with the inky waters. 
As I beheld the dead and dreary spectacle, I again 
anathematized the folly of men, and my own in par- 
ticular, in leaving the comforts and beauties of mother 
earth for the misery and desolation of the ocean, and 
again I wished myself back in my cozy quarters in 
Boston, with books and light, with warmth and cheery 
friends. The cold being intense, I was about to return 
to the cabin, when, like a spirit of jovial good-nature, 
a banjo twanged in the forecastle. Its ring of good 
fellowship and happy abandonment banished the 
demons of fret and loathing which were rising within 
me. Being on good terms with the crew, I thought I 
could venture forward without disturbing their enjoy- 
ment, and hanging on to the rail to prevent slipping, I 
made my way to the forecastle. Shoving back the 
scuttle, I called out : 

“ Below there !” 

“ Ay, ay, sir !” came the answer, almost mechanically. 

And I heard the shuffling of feet as the men tumbled 
out of their bunks. 


104 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


“ It 's only Mr. Tremaine !” I sang out. “ I 'm getting 
blue aft, and want you to take me in for the night !” 

And not waiting for a reply, I jumped down the lad- 
der and closed the scuttle. So dense was the tobacco 
smoke that for a moment I could scarcely breathe or 
even see, but finally I made out the fellows looming 
vaguely in the gloom, pushing a sea-chest toward me. 

“ Take a seat, sir, and welcome ye are, to be sure,” 
said one of them, placing it at my side. 

In the general movement that followed I looked 
curiously about, as it was the first time I had entered 
the brig’s forecastle since she sailed. And a poor, bare 
place it was, scarcely eight by ten, and so low that I 
could barely stand upright. Rude bunks of coarse 
deal were nailed up along the sides in two tiers, in 
which the sailors slept, with such bedding as they 
chanced to have. A small lamp hung from a beam in 
the center, whose light was well-nigh extingnished by 
the fumes of the tobacco. And such tobacco ! Black and 
strong, it plainly contained the unadulterated and 
doubly distilled essence of nicotine. The men were 
lounging about, with legs and arms hanging over the 
sides of the bunks, dressed as warmly as their ward- 
robes would permit, every mother’s son of them with 
the black stump of a clay pipe clutched in his teeth. 
So crowded was the place, and such the lack of venti- 
lation that, despite the cold outside and the absence of 
fire, it was comfortably warm. Seated on a box, and 
tipping comfortably back against the foremast, was an 
old, weather-beaten sailor, whose face, scarred by fifty 
years’ battle with the seas, was as tough and wrinkled 
as leather. His hands, seared and knobbed at the 
joints, held a banjo, apparently as badly treated by 
time as was its owner, but out of which he managed to 
get a few bars and notes that were wonderfully sweet 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


105 


and restful on this wintry night in the remote Southern 
Ocean. My arrival had interrupted the jolly time. 
The sailors at once felt themselves upon their good be- 
havior ; and urge them as I might to go on with their 
merrymaking and to never mind me, they remained 
dumb or growled at one another occasionally in an 
undertone. At last I asked the old seaman, whom his 
mates called Tom, to let me take his banjo. Nothing 
in the world pleases a sailor so much as music. I have 
never yet seen one whom the simplest song will not en- 
rapture as completely as a brass band a small boy. 
They were eager attention as I took the battered in- 
strument and fingered it. In my college days I had 
been quite famous as a banjoist, and though it was 
years since I had touched one, it had all the old familiar 
feeling, and after testing its capabilities, I played an 
old Spanish fandango, full of snap and go. The effect 
was electrical. When I had finished there was a cho- 
rus of hearty yells and cries of approval that might 
have pleased even a more modest man than myself. A 
touch of music makes the whole world kin. The spell 
was broken. 

“ Now," said I, “ I 'm going to sing a song, and you 've 
got to come in on the chorus." 

And then T gave a rollicking old sea ballad called 
“ Across the Western Ocean," with a hurricane chorus 
calling more for quantity than quality in its rendition. 
Every man listened to the solo with eyes ablaze, some 
keeping time with noddings of the head, others by a 
gentle swaying of the whole body. Just before the 
refrain each deep pair of lungs filled, and roared out a 
chorus that would have done credit to the crew of a 
man-of-war. 

“ Hooray for Mr. Tremaine !" yelled a sailor. 

“ Give us another, sir !" came from every side. 


106 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


“ See here, you fellows,” I remarked, “ I 'm not going 
to do all the singing and have no chance to hear you. 
Not another one from me till Tom here has given us 
a song, and we 'll all join in the chorus.” 

“All right, sir,” Tom promptly assented, grinning 
with delight. And after thumbing the instrument for 
a moment he burst into an indescribable sailor’s love 
ditty, which he rendered with marvelous contortions of 
face and body, and with quavers that would have done 
credit to the nose of Ichabod Crane. 

“ Give us the breakdown, Tom,” shouted a seaman, 
“ and me and Bill will do the dancin’.” 

A sailor’s jig is a tame affair unless rendered in bare 
feet ; boots seem to act as clogs on his spirits as well as 
on his toes. The two men easily shook off their heavy 
shoes and rough socks, and, facing each other, awaited 
the music, which took the form of a lively Irish jig ; 
and as they jumped and slapped the planks with their 
bare feet, their comrades gazed on them with rapt ad- 
miration, interrupted by an occasional remark called 
forth by some extra exertion on the part of the dan- 
cers, as : 

“ Bully for you. Bill !” or “ Jim ’s the chap as knows 
how to foot it !” 

The fellows kept at it until they rolled into their 
bunks fairly pumped out with exhaustion. Knowing 
how dearly the sailor loves his grog, and thinking that 
my entertainment deserved some acknowledgment, I 
sent the cook aft with orders to bring a double dram of 
liquor all around, a proposal that was received with 
yells of delight, culminating in “ Three cheers for Mr. 
Tremaine.” 

The errand was soon accomplished, and with many 
rough expressions of good will toward the brig and all 
her company the potion was washed down the caoa- 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


107 


cious throats of the JajieVs crew. Though many a 
longing glance was cast at the empty pannikins and 
the cook was often asked if that was all the stuff there 
was stowed away in the old hooker, I remained firm 
despite the sore temptation to get another glass for 
them. Song succeeded song, every man contributing 
to the enjoyment of the rest, and it was with a sense 
of hearty gratitude for the pleasant evening, which had 
cleared away the cobwebs of weariness and discontent, 
that I bade my entertainers good-night and climbed 
the ladder which led to the deck amid a thundering 
chorus of “ List, ye landsmen !" 




CHAPTER XIII. 

As I hurried aft, I fancied there was a lighter look 
to the clouds. The wind was certainly less steady ; it 
blew undecidedly, as though about to shift. I tumbled 
into my bunk with a light heart, convinced that morn- 
ing would bring a change in our prospects. Such 
proved the case, for I was early aroused by the creak- 
ing of the davits as the jolly-boat was lowered over the 
side, showing that something unusual had occurred. 
Jumping into my clothes I hurried on deck, to find the 
clouds completely vanished and the stars shining pale 
and cold in the faint light of the early morning. But 
what concerned us more than all else was the wind, 
which came directly from the south with a chill that 
dulled one by the mere idea of its intensity. It was a 
calm, cold breath, straight from the pole, blowing over 
trackless wastes of snow and ice. The heavy swell 
alone prevented the ocean’s freezing beneath that dead- 
ening blast. We must plainly get out of the ice now 
or never. The men were already aloft, loosening the 
sails — a long, hard job, as they were frozen to the 
yards and had to be pounded out with marline-spikes. 
[io8] 


A tRfiASUREl found — A BRIDE WON. 


lod 


It was still dusk, but the flush in the east showed that 
the sun was coming. The whole brig was one gleam- 
ing mass of ice from the water-line to the main truck. 
It was well-nigh impossible to keep one’s footing on 
the slippery deck, and how the men hung on aloft as they 
labored with the frozen canvas was a mystery. The 
first mate had gone to the ice with a single man, where 
they were awaiting orders to cast off the hawsers. 
Harding and Ross were both aloft, working like tigers 
and encouraging the men to increase their exertions. 

At last the foretopsail was beaten free, the men lay 
below, and together we started to hoist it. Every man 
tugged at the braces as though his life depended upon 
it — as indeed it did. Gradually the stiff and frozen 
ropes started in the blocks, the canvas slowly expanded, 
and, with a final long pull and a strong one we got it 
sheeted home. Jack leaped into the fore-rigging. 

“ Cast off !” he shouted to the men on the ice. 

Already the Janet was tugging at her moorings, as 
though impatient to be away, and we had to ease her 
up to enable Morgan to loosen the cables. These were 
soon hauled in, the men clambered aboard by a line, 
leaving it to tow astern, the helm was put over, and, 
as the brig came about into the wind, we started off on 
a tack to the westward to gain the channel down which 
we had driven when seeking a haven in the ice. 

Leaving one man at the wheel, the rest of us set to 
work to make further sail. Morgan’s strength stood 
us in good stead, and it was not long before both top- 
sails and topgallant sails were set, after a fashion. As 
we rounded on the last tack, the sun’s upper limb 
thrust itself above the horizon, and, though its pale 
light suggested low latitudes and polar cold, I doubt if 
the sight of it ever gave greater pleasure. The men 
broke into a cheer, while an involuntary smile played 


no 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


about Morgan's stern lips. But great as was the de- 
light with which we greeted the luminary, it revealed 
a spectacle calculated to moderate our joy, for in its 
rays another ice-field glittered in the west, which was 
drifting eastward with great rapidity, and which must 
soon encounter the floe from whose heart the brig was 
emerging, thus blocking the channel through which 
we hoped to escape. The only question was whether 
we could get into open water before the floes came to- 
gether. If so, the islands could grind together for 
aught we cared ; if not — well, the Janet would be 
crushed into kindlings under our feet, and we could 
take our chances in the crash. What they were was 
hardly worth calculating. 

The channel running to the north was perhaps half 
a mile long, and at the moment of our entering it some 
two hundred yards wide, although the breadth varied 
at different points. 

“ Aloft, every man of you, and shake out the royals 
and sky-sails !” bellowed Harding. 

But the command was needless. We were racing 
up the rigging ere the words had left his mouth. Not 
a word was spoken, but every one worked with des- 
perate energy. It was do or die. Before us, but half 
a mile away, lay the tossing open sea, stretching away 
to warmth and life, to home and love. Fail to reach 
it, and graves were awaiting us in the depths of the 
Antarctic. The sails were torn out of the ice by sheer 
muscle. Two men at the end of the bowsprit hammered 
away at the flying-jib. By the time they succeeded in 
beating it out the other jibs had been set. The Janet 
responded at once to the extra canvas and flew merrily 
over the curling seas, unconscious of the fate that 
threatened her. She had lost none of the nimbleness 
of her heels by her confinement in the ice. There was 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


Ill 


scarcely time to consider our situation or progress, so 
completely did the work of making sail absorb our 
energies ; but when Ross and myself, who were at work 
on the fore-royal, had shaken the sail out, I paused 
long enough to glance at the horizon, which was now 
resplendent with the glow of the rising sun, beneath 
whose rays the ice-sheets glistened with dazzling 
whiteness. But, despite the brilliancy of the scene, 
there was an icy deadness about it which sent a shiver 
to the nerves and the heart. From the lofty height 
the narrowness of the channel was exaggerated, and 
the hope of escape seemed forlorn enough as we looked 
at the distance yet to be traversed. The channel was 
fast narrowing, the floes moving with ominous speed. 
Turning to me with the slight grin which always 
adorned his face when trouble was brewing, Ross re- 
marked : 

“ It ’s going to be a close shave for the old brig. 
Guess we shall hear the teeth snap, if we don’t feel 
them. Well, let ’s take a turn at that sky-sail. It is 
small, and we can make short work of it.” 

The Janet being now under all plain canvas, nothing 
more could be done, for, with the yards coated with 
ice, it was useless to think of getting out the studding- 
sails. 

“Bring your ‘traps on deck, men,” said Harding, 
“ and make ready the long-boat.” 

The jolly-boat, which was dragging astern, having 
been forgotten in the confusion, was cut loose. We 
were now rapidly nearing the end of the channel, with 
the brig hurtling through the seas, as though at last 
realizing the doom which threatened her. Toward the 
open end the passage fortunately widened a little. 

Jack ran out to the flying jib boom, whence he conned 
the course of the brig, Ross standing on the fprecsstle 


112 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


head to receive his orders. It was clear that only the 
most skillful handling could squeeze the vessel through, 
and that her chance was a pretty ghostly one, even at 
that. But the crisis was at hand. Already the floes 
had met some distance astern, where the crunching, 
grinding sound of the edges as they grated and wore 
upon each other was far from reassuring. Some of 
the men started toward the long-boat. 

“ No use trying that,” exclaimed Morgan. You 
ought to have put off five minutes ago. We shall be 
free or a wreck before you could lower away or pull a 
stroke.” 

Suddenly the fellow at the wheel, frightened by the 
peril, released his hold and sprang to the rail, but the 
brig had hardly veered a hair from her course when 
the first mate, who was luckily standing near by, seized 
the spokes and kept her steady. All the seamen were 
perched in the rigging ready to leap as a last desperate, 
chance when the crash came. Harding and Ross still 
kept their places forward, whence the former’s voice 
rang clear and cool as he watched the brig and the ice, 
and gave the needful commands. We were now within 
a hundred feet of open water, but the ice was closing in 
on us. Standing but a little distance from the rail, it 
alone was visible on either hand. Suddenly the sailor 
who had abandoned his post leaped wildly into the air. 
At the same instant there was a grinding noise at the 
stern, a slight crushing of wood, and the wheel was 
twisted out of Morgan’s hands as from an infant’s. 
But the brig was free ; clear water showed between 
her stern and the ice. Eagerly we peered over to as- 
certain the damage. A glance revealed our hair- 
breadth escape. A piece of the rudder some six inches 
wide had been ground and twisted away like so much 
paper. The jaws of the ice had caught it as they closed 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


113 


together. Otherwise the Janet was unharmed. One 
thing was sure : had our start been delayed for a 
second’s space, had any man worked with the least 
relaxation, had Harding conned the vessel with less 
skill, or had Morgan not been at hand when the wheel 
was abandoned, the brig would have been pulverized 
into driftwood, and our corpses would already have been 
on their way through the miles of cold, black damp to 
the bottom of the Antarctic. 

The Janet was leaving the ice fast astern before we 
remembered the sailor who had leaped overboard, so 
completely had the narrowness of our escape filled 
our minds. Ross was the first to suggest that a boat 
be sent in search of him. The brig was brought-to, 
and a boat lowered, into which the second mate and 
three seamen tumbled and rowed rapidly toward the 
floes. No trace of the fellow could be seen from the 
fanefs deck. The edges of the ice islands had broken 
as they came together, and huge fragments, forced 
from the water, lay heaped in wild confusion on the 
ice. We could see Ross and his men clambering 
among and over the masses of ice in careful search for 
the missing man. At length they reluctantly returned. 
Not a trace had been found. Either the floes had 
closed over him as he leaped or he had been crushed 
to death between their edges. 

Hurriedly the boat was swung to the davits, the 
helm was put up, and the brig, under the glorious 
breeze, leaped toward the north, exulting as much as 
the crew in her release from the ice. 

The loss of the seaman tempered our rejoicing some- 
what, but nothing can wholly destroy the satisfaction 
which mortals feel in escaping the jaws of death, as 
we had just done. Besides, had the fellow stood by 
the Janet^ he would have been safe. Moreover, his 


114 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


abandonment of the helm was the act of a coward, im- 
periling as it did all our lives. 

Observations which we got that day showed our 
latitude to be 73 degrees 18 minutes south, which was 
considerably lower than we had anticipated, indicat- 
ing that the drift of the ice had been to the south. 
Our true course for the island would have been north- 
east ; but so imperative was it to make the most of the 
wind, and thus work north as fast as possible, that Jack 
decided to run before it, making for the east after 
gaining sufficient northing. 

The ice faded rapidly from view, and never did we 
lose sight of anything with more heartfelt joy. The 
wind was strong — what sailors would call a lively top- 
gallant breeze ; but such was Harding’s eagerness to 
get the most out of it that he held on under all plain sail, 
beneath whose pressure the Janet fairly sprang from 
one crest to another, scarcely deigning to notice the 
hollows which yawned between. It was grand sport, 
causing the blood to dance with exhilaration and de- 
light. The sea still looked dark and cold ; for the sun, 
though the sky was clear, shone pale, relieving but 
little the profound blackness of the waves. But every 
minute was bringing us nearer warmer climes. And 
that was the happiest day that we spent upon the brig. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

A week of favorable winds and weather ensued, en- 
abling the Janet to fully recover her lost ground. 
Again we were somewhat to the north of the island, 
and the course was laid for the final run to the east. 
Slowly the brig came about, as though reluctant to 
cease from her northward flight. For a moment the 
sails shook, then they filled, and with her bowsprit 
headed for the spot where the Raven had foundered, 
the Janet began once more to work her way toward 
treasure island. 

For three days we thrashed ahead against the wind. 
It was hard work for the crew, as Harding made short 
tacks, thinking that the brig progressed thus more rap- 
idly than on longer reaches. Box the yards and brace 
the yards was the rule from morning till night, from 
night till morning ; but, work as we would, the end of 
the third day showed only two hundred miles easting. 
Several sails had appeared, all hull down, with the ex- 
ception of one ship, which we made no attempt to 
speak. It was, however, a pleasure to know that we 
were again in a frequented part of the ocean, though 
we should leave it soon enough, if the weather would 
favor us with a wind from the northwest. And the 
next day it came. The breeze had failed completely the 
night before, causing the brig to roll atrociously. Dawn 

[115] 


116 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


brought a lively squall, which overtook us before the 
crew had gotten half the canvas off her. As usual 
under such circumstances, Wie. Janet seemed determined 
to turn bottom side up, and she certainly had some ex- 
cuse for it, to be taken by a tropical gale under top- 
gallants. However, the fore-topgallant blew away, 
the other was furled after a fashion, all of us taking a 
turn aloft ; and as the squall had expended itself in a 
single puff, the clouds blew over, but the wind which 
drove them before it came, to Jack’s unspeakable de- 
light, squarely from the wished-for quarter. 

The canvas was again shaken out, a good deal quicker 
than it had been furled, the lost sail replaced after 
several hours’ work, and by noon we were running 
under full sail, the brig a smother of foam to her top- 
sail yard. Our ill-luck seemed truly to have departed. 
Harding’s face was as radiant as the sun, and he beamed 
upon us all, Morgan included, with a heart full of un- 
suspicious good-will. 

“ Give me your hand, old man !” he exclaimed to the 
mate. “We are on the right course again. A fort- 
night and the money will be on board, and then away 
for Melbourne !” 

Morgan merely smiled by way of reply — his smile 
always gave an offensive expression to a face other- 
wise handsome — but said nothing. Had he asked Jack 
at this time for the location of the island, I doubt not 
that he would have told him. Harding’s attention was, 
fortunately, at the moment, called to some work the 
sailors were doing aloft, and there was no further con- 
versation. I took occasion to remonstrate with my 
friend later in the day, but he only laughed, saying 
that he had no intention of betraying the island’s posi- 
tion to Morgan. 

However,” he added, “ I don’t think there would 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


117 


be any harm in telling him, for, with our reduced crew, 
he would not run the risk of a struggle endangering 
loss of life, before the treasure is shipped. It will be 
a hard job as it is, to attend to the brig and get the 
money. You may be sure that there will be work 
enough for all hands, and Tom»will wait till he 's done, 
before showing his true colors, assuming that he has 
the bloodthirsty intentions with which you credit him, 
a thing which I get pretty doubtful about once in a 
while. Still,” laying a hand affectionately on my 
shoulder, “ I shall respect your opinion, and I promise 
you that Morgan shall not know where the island is 
before we sight it.” And with this I was forced to be 
content. 

It was plain that Jack’s suspicions had been lulled, 
and that no assistance was to be expected from him 
until his first mate’s treachery and ill will should mani- 
fest themselves in some overt act. 

An uneventful week past. Fairer skies never 
smiled, nor more favorable breezes blew. The Janet 
ran like a yacht over the long swell of the South Pa- 
cific, not a sail being furled or reefed for the entire time. 
On figuring out our position on the seventh day, Hard- 
ing took me aside and said : 

“ Well, Carl, we are just on the spot where my grand- 
father abandoned his ship over fifty years ago. The 
reckoning shows latitude 50 degrees south, longitude 
60 degrees east. We ought to sight the island a good 
deal within two days. He made it in three with a ship’s 
boat, and we ought certainly to do a day better 

“ Is the course to be changed ?’' I inquired. 

** Yes. Our present course is south by east, and she 
must now be headed southeast by east. I shall not 
make the change until Ross’s watch to-night, how- 
ever.’* 


118 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


“ Prevent Morgan’s learning of it as long as you can.” 

“Which won’t be long, as he relieves the second 
mate at midnight,” was Jack’s laughing reply, as he 
dove down the companionway. 

The following night was an anxious and uncomfort- 
able one. Reason with Myself as I might, I could not 
control the restlessness which had taken possession of 
me. Morgan went on deck at twelve, however. And, 
as though ridiculing my fears, the hours wore away 
uneventfully, bringing a glorious sunrise, whose bril- 
liancy served to banish the morbid fancies engendered 
in the dark. 

On leaving the cabin, I found Jack striding the deck 
and struggling with suppressed excitement, something 
easily understood, for the immediate purpose of the 
voyage was soon to be accomplished, if at all. Now 
that we were in the supposed vicinity of the island, it 
seemed to me more fanciful, more unreal than ever. 
How reasonable the conclusion of Harding’s father 
that the memorandum was the scrawl of a madman ! 
To be sure, it was intelligible, with the brevity and com- 
pleteness which generally characterize the log of the 
merchant skipper ; but the idea might well be born from 
the delirium of a shattered brain, however correct its ex- 
pression. And how preposterous it was that two men, 
and they grandsire and grandson, should reach the same 
infinitesimal dot of land in the immensity of the South- 
ern ocean, and then should hit upn the same hidden 
treasure-nook on the tiny spot ! Pshaw ! “ What fools 

these mortals be !” I soliloquized, as I smiled at Jack’s 
folly and realized my own in coming round the world 
on so absurd an expedition. To search for the tradi- 
tional needle would have been the height of reason 
compared with this. 

“ Don’t be heart-broken, Jack, if we don’t find the 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


119 


island,” was my remark, as Harding paused near me 
in his walk on the deck. “You remember what your 
father — *' 

“ Land, ho !” rang out from the fore-topgallant cross- 
trees, from a sailor who was tearing down the rigging, 
cutting short the sarcastic remark that was on my 
tongue. 

I had just convinced myself that the island was a 
myth, and lo, the solid fact of land, looming up from 
the sea, dissolving all my skeptical reasonings and 
doubt about it ! Jack's faith was truer than my skep- 
ticism, as faith of any kind generally is. I was glad 
that the fellow aloft sang out “ Land, ho !” just when 
he did, for it prevented my voicing a mighty absurd 
speech which I had been composing for my friend’s 
benefit. 

“ Where away ?” yelled the latter, halfway up the 
ratlines. 

“ Away on the weather-bow, well down in the sea.” 

Jack was by this time in the main cross-trees, whither 
I clambered after him. The binocular was at his eyes, 
fixed on a kind of smudge away to the south, which I 
was sailor enough to know must be land. 

Yes, land it was sure enough, and nothing but an 
island, and a small one at that, could there be in this 
part of the ocean. With a long breath of relief. Jack 
finally lowered the glass and handed it to me, say- 
ing : 

“ That ’s the island, Carl, and no mistake.” 

Its irregular outline was plainly visible under the 
glass. It lay low in the sea, barely raising itself above 
its surface. A line of white fringing the shore showed 
where the surf broke upon the shelving beach. 

Harding remained aloft, giving directions as to the 
management of the brig, while I descended, the thought 


120 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON 


of Morgan, which the excitement of the moment had 
banished, making me eager to know how he took the 
news and what he was doing. Most of the men were 
in the rigging, staring in the direction of the island, 
the first mate leaning over the rail, apparently not 
much interested in the matter, and Ross, with his 
habitual composure, standing near the wheel, calmly 
replacing a worn-out quid. Morgan glanced at me as 
I leaped to the deck, but even my suspicions could 
draw no conclusions from the look. 

As the wind came from the north, an altered course 
lay directly with it, and the Janet made short work of 
the twelve miles or so that intervened. When the 
island was some three miles away. Jack returned to the 
deck. His face was radiant. 

“ It all worked out just as I had hoped !” he exclaimed. 
‘‘ The only unexpected thing was making land so soon, 
though I had a notion that we should sight it before night. 
A day or two of good weather, now, and we '11 be off, 
with a valuable though not a bulky cargo. I ’m going 
to tell the men the object of the voyage now. They 
must know, and the knowledge will make them work 
all the livelier. Order the men aft, Mr. Ross.” 

The command was eagerly obeyed, an expression 
of curiosity filling each usually dull countenance. No 
doubt the object of the voyage had been the subject of 
much speculation in the forecastle. The island had 
already associated itself with the purpose of the expe- 
dition in the minds of the crew. Harding wasted no 
words. He merely said : 

“ Men, the island yonder is what we came into the 
Southern Ocean for. I happen to know that it con- 
tains a buried treasure of great value, which I propose 
to remove. Take hold and work with a will, and we 
can have it aboard within two days. And I ’ll see that 


A TREASURE EOUnU — A BRIDE WON. 


121 


this voyage pays each man of you more than any ten 
you ever made before.’' 

It was curious to note the mingled astonishment, in- 
credulity, greed and delight which swept over every 
face. 

“ Three cheers for Captain Harding !” shouted Ross. 

They were given and repeated with hearty good-will. 
Jack apparently had the confidence of his men. He 
certainly deserved it, for to his splendid seamanship he 
added a thoughtful humanity, the absence of which in 
commanders makes so many ships veritable prison- 
houses. The sailors hurried back to their work, a new 
energy and enthusiasm in their bearing. 

The question of an anchorage now engaged the 
attention of all of us aft. The island was very small, 
and so far as convenience in handling the treasure 
went it made little difference where we brought up. 
The northern side would have been preferable, as 
being that on which the hiding-place was situated ; but 
it was plain enough, as Harding had before said, that 
the breakers would prevent a boat’s landing in that 
quarter. The island was now less than half a mile 
away, a low green mass, whose verdure was inexpres- 
sibly refreshing. The vegetation was not luxuriant. 
Its latitude was too far to the south for that. Its gen- 
eral outline and appearance resembled those of many 
islands on the Maine coast, or perhaps more closely 
still those in the Bay of Fundy or the Gulf of St. Law- 
rence. It could hardly have exceeded a square mile in 
area. Oblong in shape and running in a general way 
east and west, its coast-line was extremely regular, 
there being but one indentation, and this on the south- 
ern side, which offered the least suggestion of anchor- 
age or a harbor. The lookout forward was ordered to 
watch carefully for any indication of shoals, and under 


122 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


reduced canvas the Janet cruised around the wee spot 
of land, gradually working- shoreward as she advanced. 
Finally we were as near in as it was safe to take the brig. 
By putting the helm sharply over, the topsails were 
brought aback against the masts, and we lay-to, hardly 
a quarter of a mile off the southern shore. Gathered 
about the wheel, we consulted as to the best plan of 
action. It was now well into the afternoon, and dark- 
ness came on early, as it was now May, a month corre- 
sponding to late October in northern latitudes. An 
anchorage being the chief thing, it was decided that 
Morgan should make a careful examination of the 
shore in search of one. A boat was at once lowered, 
and four pairs of stout arms sent us flying over the' 
heavy Pacific swell. 

When we lay close in shore, the search for signs of 
shoaling water began, but without success. The same 
intense, impenetrable blue prevailed which character- 
izes deep water under a bright sun. We took continual 
soundings, but one hundred fathoms of line reached no 
bottom. The island was apparently the top of an ex- 
ceedingly steep mountain which arose from the sea 
with nearly perpendicular sides. The conjecture was 
confirmed on reaching the shore, for the beach plunged 
directly down, without the suggestion of a slope. After 
an hour’s search, we returned to the brig, convinced 
that to anchor her off the island was out of the ques- 
tion. This was a disappointment, chiefly for the reason 
that it would cripple our working force in the excavat- 
ing and removing of the treasure, thus causing delay, 
a thing to be especially avoided in these treacherous and 
tempestuous waters. There was not an apology for a 
harbor, and even with an anchorage we should be 
obliged to up and run for it if any kind of hard weather 
set in. We could, however, have employed all hands 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


123 


ashore, while now two men would certainly have to 
remain on the brig. But there was no help for it. We 
had reached the island, and the good fortune vouch- 
safed to us since the escape from the ice encouraged 
us in the hope that the treasure would be gotten safely 
aboard. 

Darkness had fallen, and nothing remained but to 
lay-by till morning. We in the cabin held a half-hour's 
consultation to arrange for the morrow, it being finally 
agreed that Ross and one of the seamen who had been 
ailing for a few days should remain on board, while the 
rest, nine in all, should do the work ashore. 

Jack and I spent a good share of the night in discuss- 
ing the situation and our plan of action. . We deter- 
mined to go fully armed, and that one of us should 
keep vigilant watch upon Morgan, especially for any 
attempt he might make to communicate in secret with 
the crew. The latter was my idea. Jack had clearly 
gotten over the notion of any treachery, but my earnest- 
ness in the matter partially renewed his anxiety, and 
assured me that we should hardly be caught napping, 
even by so clever a man as our worthy first mate. 
Harding showed me a compartment which had been 
built into his stateroom for the reception of the treas- 
ure, a stoutly constructed closet of heavy wood, whose 
door was fastened by three locks of great size and 
strength. It could be opened only by removing the 
berth in which Jack slept, and I persuaded him to agree 
that after the money was stowed away, the cabin should 
never be without an occupant for any length of time. 
Despite their size, the locks were opened by three 
diminutive keys, one of which Harding gave to me. 
Thus any one, to gain a secret entrance into the com- 
partment, would have to overcome the vigilance of us 
both. 



CHAPTER XV. 

Long before sunrise the quarter-boat was lowered 
away, in readiness for our departure. It contained a 
dozen spades and long-handled shovels, provided espe- 
cially for the occasion, and several axes, together with 
an abundant supply of ropes, etc. These, in addition 
to a wheelbarrow, lanterns and a small supply of pro- 
visions, comprised our outfit. Jack thought that pos- 
sibly the work could be done in a single day ; within 
two days at the outside we expected to sail for Mel- 
bourne. 

After a hasty breakfast we tumbled eagerly into the 
boat, which, propelled by six pairs of brawny arms, 
soon grounded on the gravelly beach. After hauling 
her well up each man took a shovel and pickax, with 
such other tools as might be needful, and, headed by 
Jack, we set out across the island. Having landed on 
the south shore, our course was directly north, over 
the narrowest part. Near the place where we had dis- 
embarked stood the remains of a rude hut, which 
Harding and his companions had constructed nearly a 
year before, when, as shipwrecked mariners, they had 
made the island their abode. Were it not for its re- 
moteness and the tinge of romance and mystery which 
the expedition and its object gave^ this tiny islet would 
1*24) 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


U5 


hardly have commanded a minute’s interest, for it was 
without noteworthy features of any description. Its 
formation was doubtful — possibly volcanic, certainly 
not coral. The total absence of a harbor of anchorage 
made its choice as a hiding-place for treasure seem 
singular. If volcanic in origin, however, disturbances 
might have changed its outline, destroying caves and 
indentations which had previously existed. The sur- 
face was even, though the land rose gradually as we 
advanced. There were no large trees, but numerous 
dwarf oaks, with a rich undergrowth of brakes and 
grasses, gave a cheerful look to the landscape. A few 
birds twittered softly in the thickets, whose entire fear- 
lessness — several even perching on the long shovels 
which the sailors carried over their shoulders — showed 
how seldom man had visited the spot. I occasionally 
noticed tracks resembling those of a fox in the damp 
soil, and once the spreading footprints of a large bird, 
though I could form no notion of what kind, despite a 
pretty good knowledge of ornithology. 

We hurried on in silence. Jack turning neither to 
the right nor left, and the seamen, in their eagerness, 
following his example. Within ten minutes after leav- 
ing the boat, a vision of the sea gleamed through the 
undergrowth, away to the north. A few steps more, 
and Harding stopped at the prostrate trunk of a large 
tree, apparently the only one of any size on the island. 
It had broken off a few feet from the ground. 

“This is the tree,” exclaimed Jack, examining it 
carefully, “ and beneath it lies the buried treasure ! 
Here is the hollow ” — stepping into the trunk — “ where 
I was standing when the ground gave way.” 

He stamped heavily upon it, but to all appearances 
the soil was firm and compact. The sound certainly 
did not indicate a cavern beneath. Seizing a shovel, 


126 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


he dug* rapidly for a few minutes, the rest of us look- 
ing curiously on. 

“ It ’s plain enough what has happened,” broke in 
Morgan. “There has been a heavy gale, the waves 
have broken in the earth around the roots of the tree, 
and filled in the cavity.” 

“I guess you are right, Tom,” answered Harding, 
again studying the surroundings carefully. “ I know 
this is the place. But it 's clear enough there 's no 
hole in the ground now. However, it only means 
some extra digging. The bin containing the money 
was against the southern side of the cave, away from 
the sea. We will begin to excavate twelve or fifteen 
feet back, and, by making a sloping descent, I think I 
can hit the spot.” Stepping a few paces back, he ex- 
amined a rough drawing of the interior of the cavern. 
“ Start here,” he said, and ordered two of the men to 
begin digging abreast. 

The rest of us set to work between them and the 
tree, excavating directly downward while they worked 
on a slope. All labored in silence. As the treasure 
was buried at least ten feet deep, there was a good deal 
of a job before us. But the eagerness with which men 
will toil for wealth is equalled only by the zeal in- 
spired by love of life. We worked with a fierce energy, 
the scent of gold already in our nostrils, and soon a 
mound of dirt began to rise on either side of the 
trench. 

The labor was easy at first, the soil being sandy and 
loosely packed, but at a depth of four feet a stratum of 
rock was encountered which made our progress slow 
and tedious. It was surprising, too, as nothing on the 
surface of the island indicated such a formation. First, 
there was a layer of small stones ; these were easily 
removed, but they increased in size as we descended, 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


127 


making the work delicate in the extreme. Morgan’s 
enormous strength here stood us in good stead ; rocks 
which the rest of us could hardly budge alone, he 
handled with an ease which, under other circumstances, 
would have been exasperating. So completely did the 
task absorb our attention, that we failed to notice the 
passage of time, and only the lengthening shadows re- 
minded us that the day was about gone. We had now 
reached what was apparently a ledge of solid rock, and 
it was clear that the treasure would not be disclosed 
that day. It had been decided to carry on the opera- 
tions during the night if the weather was such as to 
admit of the brig’s lying off the island in safety. Un- 
fortunately, however, the wind had risen steadily 
throughout the day, shifting to the south. The brig 
must claw off the land or be blown ashore. Reluctantly 
Jack gave the order to return to the boat. Leaving 
the tools on the beach, we hurriedly made for the 
Janet^ which had worked out more than a mile, and 
lay, rolling heavily, in the swell from the south. After 
the grinding toil of the day, the pull against wind and 
sea was long and hard. It was with a feeling of great 
relief that we at last got alongside. 

That night it blew a lively gale, and morning found 
the brig tossing on the wastes of the Southern Ocean, 
without a trace of land in sight. Of course, we had 
expected tclose the island ; the only question was how 
long it would take to work back. This experience em- 
phasized the delightful uncertainty of obtaining the 
treasure. With any sort of a harbor we could easily 
have ridden out the gale, but now we were practically 
at the mercy of every wind that blew, and a season of 
bad weather might delay for weeks the accomplishment 
of our purpose. However, grumbling would do no good. 
The gale blew out with the sun, leaving the wind dead 


128 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


from the west, and it made an all-day’s job beating back 
against it. Night had fallen when we again caught 
sight of the island. Running the Janet in as far as we 
dared, we again lay-to, and, as the wind was about 
gone, hoped to hold our position till daybreak. So 
fagged out was the crew by the labor of the preceding 
day, coupled with the hard work of the night — for the 
Janet ^ like the coquette that she was, demanded a deal 
of attention in a squall — that Harding decided to make 
no attempt at the treasure until the following morning. 

Dawn again saw us hard at work with pickax and 
shovel. But progress was slight, for half an hour’s 
work made it plain that we had struck an extended 
ledge. Dig where we would, the sheer hard surface of 
the rock at last confronted us. Finally Jack called 
Morgan and myself aside for consultation. 

“ It ’s plain enough how the matter stands,” I re- 
marked. “ The ledge is probably of no great thick- 
ness, and the pirates, digging under it at the open 
end, stored their plunder away, and boarded it up in 
front.” 

“ There is no doubt about it,” was Harding’s answer, 
as he wiped the drops of perspiration from his face and 
eyes. “ The question is how to get at it.” 

“We haven’t powder enough to do much blasting 
with,” broke in Morgan. “ If we had, nothing would 
be easier than to blow off the top of the ledge, and we 
could scoop the gold out from above.” 

“ No ; one good blast would use up all the powder, 
unless you have some hidden away,” answered Jack, 
turning to the mate with a cheerful smile. “ Carl, 
here, imagines that you are going to blow us all up or 
inflict some equally terrible calamity some time.” 

I thought my friend never looked like such an idiot, 
as he turned what seemed to me an asinine grin first on 


A TREASURE! FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


129 


Morgan and then on me. I merely scowled as the 
mate laughed, showing his teeth, as he said : 

“ You and I understand each other. Jack, and I hope 
to gain Mr. Tremaine’s good opinion before our little 
cruise is over. I haven’t more than a pound or two 
which I always keep on hand for loading cartridges. 
I ’m something of a sportsman, you know.” 

“ Then there is no use in thinking about blasting,” 
said Jack, again smiling toward me, as though there 
could no longer be the least reason for suspecting 
Morgan’s goodwill. “ A single charge would use up all 
we’ve got, and it’s too doubtful if one would do the 
business to warrant that. What we must do is to dig 
down through the roots of the tree, clear the cavity 
into which I fell of the dirt and sand that have washed 
in, and get at the treasure in that way. It will make a 
good deal of delay, as not more than two can work at 
a time to any advantage, but it’s the only way. Tom, 
you and I will take hold first. By changing every 
hour the men can be kept fresh, and they will work for 
all they are worth.” 

The suggestion seemed the only feasible one, and it 
was at once carried out. Morgan and Jack fell to with 
the greatest energy. At the end of the hour they had 
to climb out of the excavation they had made. Two 
men at once took their places, while the rest of us 
threw back the earth which had been tossed out. 

The work continued without intermission till dusk. 
So efficient had it been and so skillfully directed that 
two hours additional labor would probably reveal the 
treasure. Our excitement had steadily risen, and it 
was only when compelled to cease by the increasing 
gloom that we noticed the unwelcome sound of rising 
wind. It had but one meaning for us. Back we hur- 
ried to the brig, and again a small tempest drove us 


130 


A Treasure found — A rride WoM. 


off the island. This time it came from the northwest, 
and we spent the day following in clawing back against 
it. In the highly wrought state into which the search 
for the treasure had worked us, the delay thus caused 
was most exasperating, and many, I fear, 'were the 
hearty curses invoked on the wind from both cabin 
and forecastle. Night again found us hove-to off the 
island, however. 

We set to work the next day, determined to finish 
the job by night. Then it could blow forty gales, for 
aught we cared, provided the wind would only keep 
out of the north. The edge of the rock nearest the sea 
was soon reached. A little digging beneath would now 
reveal the treasure, if there was any. Jack, Morgan 
and myself descended into the pit, where we worked 
with feverish energy, loading the dirt into buckets, 
which were rapidly drawn to the surface and emptied. 
At last, as I drove my spade deep into the sand, it met 
with an obstruction which gave forth a dull, woody 
thud. It was the wall inclosing the object of our 
search. 

With mad haste we tossed away the dirt, the 
shovels often violently encountering each other. Sud- 
denly Jack, stooping over, picked up a round, flat 
object. 

“ We Ve got it !” he exclaimed, in a voice made tense 
by excitement. “ See here !’* 

Hurriedly rubbing the disk, the dull, yellow luster of 
gold shone forth. A fierce shout of joy and cupidity 
leaped involuntarily from every throat. The mere 
sight of gold affects most men as does the taste of blood 
wild beasts. Three of the sailors sprang unbidden 
into the pit. 

“Back with you !” shouted Jack angrily. 

The fellows hesitated, their eyes gleamed, their 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


131 


breath came in quick, short gasps ; they were com- 
pletely beside themselves with avarice. 

“ Did you hear what I said !” thundered Harding. 
“ You get out of here as quickly as you came down, or 
or I ’ll throw you out, and you shall not touch a penny 
of the money !” 

The instinct of obedience asserted itself at last, and 
with angry looks the men clambered up the sides of the 
cavity. 

“ Let me suggest,” said Morgan, “ that Mr. Tremaine 
go above and stand guard over the stuff, as it is hoisted 
up. Those fools will fight like demons over it, without 
somebody to watch it and them.” 

The idea was a good one, and I at once acted upon 
it. Leaving the pit, I ordered two of the sailors to 
clear away a space near the edge, making it as smooth 
and level as possible. They had barely set to work 
when Jack sang out : 

“ Hoist away !” 

Grasping the rope, I tugged heavily, and at last 
swung the bucket to the surface. It was filled to over- 
flowing with large gold coins, several of which rattled 
down to the bottom as it swung against the sides in its 
ascent. The ugly gleam which passed over the faces 
of the men as they saw this, to them, fabulous amount 
of wealth, would have been alarming, had I not been so 
absorbed by the romance and mystery of the thing 
that I barely noticed it. Mechanically I poured the 
contents of the bucket on the ground, from which there 
glistened here and there with a dull red hue the magic 
luster of the yellow metal. All the seamen gazed at it 
as though spellbound. I was recalled to my senses as 
Harding shouted : 

“ Lower away another bucket, will you ?” 

‘‘ Now, men,” said I, “ attend carefully to your work 


132 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


and don’t stand mooning any longer. Haul up the 
gold as you get orders from below, pour it down here, 
and let it alone. It a man of you fails to promptly 
obey every command, he will be put in irons and de- 
prived of any share in the treasure. Go to work.” 




CHAPTER XVL 

The men obeyed. The work went on in silence, 
broken only by the sound of the pick and spade below 
and the rattle of the coins as I poured them on the 
ground. In two hours twenty buckets, closely packed 
with Spanish doubloons, with a sprinkling of silver, 
were sent up, and at least half a ton of gold lay heaped 
before me, whose value could not be less than five 
hundred thousand dollars. Never before, perhaps, did 
men become rich so suddenly. It was like a dream. 
Yet the dirty mass looked extremely dull and prosaic, 
and there was certainly nothing romantic about the 
process ; it was like hauling up so much coal or iron. 
The last two buckets were filled with badly battered 
silver ware, old drinking goblets, out of which, no 
doubt, many a health had been drained to pirate chief 
or luring mistress ; delicately wrought spoons, still 
stamped with their owner’s initial or coat-of-arms ; 
tankards and vases crushed out of all semblance to 
their original shape by the pressure of sand and rock. 
These poor remains of human craft spoke more elo- 
quently to the heart and the imagination than did the 
heap of golden coins. They told of human ownership, 
of joy and luxury, and, alas, of sorrow, and perhaps 
woe unspeakable. But when men have become rich in 

[133] 


134 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


a moment, they have little time and less inclination for 
sentiment. Jack and Morgan were already beside me. 
They looked at the treasure in silence for a moment. 
Then the former said : 

** The next thing is to get it aboard.’ 

Not a thought of all those dumb memorials symbol- 
ized ! ‘‘ We must get it aboard.” I must confess I 
had thought better things of Jack. But the money 
spoke to my friend of a distant sweetheart and mar- 
riage and unutterable things. No doubt he was to be 
forgiven. My own sentiment, I fancy, was not very 
deep. 

“ We have cleared the cave,” continued my friend, 
“ dug in until we came to a wall of rock. The ledge 
projects seven or eight feet, and in this cavity the gold 
had been stowed away and boarded up in front. We ’ve 
obtained everything there is. Now, if possible, I want 
to get the stuff down to the shore before daylight is 
gone. Then, if the wind allows the brig to hold her 
position, we can build a big fire and ship it during the 
night.” 

The plan was at once acted upon. The barrow was 
loaded with gold, and a sailor staggered off with it, 
accompanied by Morgan and three others. It had 
been decided that he should take charge of the trans- 
fer of the treasure to the beach, while I stood guard 
over it as fast as deposited there, with Jack remaining 
af the cave. We did not deem it safe to leave any of 
the crew by themselves with the gold. The savage 
and ill-judging instinct for its sole possession was too 
strong in them. I had, personally, no doubt that Mor- 
gan’s avarice was equal to that of all the sailors to- 
gether, but his prudence and common sense would 
prevent any treachery until the money was safe on 
board the brig. 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


135 


The work of transportation went on with feverish 
haste ; so great was the excitement that no one thought 
of food. Finally, in the vague twilight, the end of 
fourteen hours’ interrupted labor came with the arrival 
of the last barrow-load under the escort of Morgan and 
Jack. 

“ We will knock off work long enough to eat some- 
thing,” said the latter, “ and then take the rest of the 
night, if need be, to finish up the job.” 

Without a word we bolted the bread and beef brought 
ashore in the morning, our eyes wandering incessantly 
over the pile of treasure near by and upon one another. 
The crew sat apart, and even in the semi-darkness the 
cunning expression of eager greed could be seen. If 
Morgan wanted to tamper with them, he would, no 
doubt, find them easily won, could he but get an op- 
portunity. So absorbed was Jack in his own happy 
thoughts that the barest notion of treachery had left 
his mind. A pleasant smile hovered about his lips. He 
wished no man ill and suspected no ill will from any 
man. His generosity would reward the sailors far be- 
yond their deserts, and how could they want more ? 
Tom had done his duty well and at one time saved his 
life. Of course, he would give him enough to make 
him rich, for a merchant officer, and rejoice in the giv- 
ing. Carl was a goo’d fellow, but far too distrustful of 
his fellow- men. Such thoughts I easily read in my 
friend’s ingenuous face as I sat opposite him. I really 
envied his hearty good nature. 

It was an evening of peculiar softness and beauty. 
The west was ablaze with a ruddy glow, promising 
fair weather for the morrow. The waves of the in- 
coming tide lapped and purred gently at our feet, as 
though in assurance of tranquility and rest. The 
peace of Heaven brooded upon the waters. In the 


136 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


distance loomed the brig, magnified into vague propor- 
tions by the darkness, a single light gleaming in the 
fore-rigging. A few of the brighter stars were visible, 
glistening with a faint, sweet light in a sky still warm 
with the reflected rays of the departed sun. Calmly 
yet majestically did almighty nature assert herself 
even in our sordid hearts. The meal was finished, but 
the men sat silent and motionless. A sense, dimly 
recognized, of better things than gold and drink and 
mad carousal had touched them by the mild breath of 
the evening, by the faint luster of the stars. Morgan 
stared fixedly into the gloom ; the man, for a moment, 
had forgotten himself, and I saw a new expression of 
graciousness and love in the stern face, transforming 
it so suddenly that I with difficulty repressed an ex- 
clamation of surprise. It shook me from my inveterate 
suspicion, and, for the first time, I felt a sentiment of 
kindness toward him, whom I so distrusted and dis- 
liked. 

It was left for Jack to recall us to ourselves, to our 
meaner selves, our baser selves. 

“ Get to work, boys, and gather all the stuff you can 
for the fire. Two of you come along and row Mr. 
Tremaine and me to the brig. I want to arrange 
about loading the treasure," he explained to me, as we 
stepped into the boat. 

Before reaching the Janet we had decided that Mor- 
gan should superintend the work ashore, Ross taking 
charge of the boat on its trips to the brig, while we 
remained aboard to carry the money to the hiding- 
place prepared for it. Arriving at the ship, we went 
below. As I passed the door of Morgan’s stateroom, 
I instinctively tried it ; it was locked. Obeying an 
imperative impulse, I drew a bunch of keys from my 
pocket. The last one opened the door. The place 


A TREASURE FOUND- — A BRIDE WON. 


137 


was dark, and, for a moment, I wondered what I had 
entered for. The hesitation was brief, however. 
Making straight for the cabinet, I tried all its drawers, 
and found them, as I had expected, locked. Calling to 
Harding that I was busy, but would be with him di- 
rectly, I lighted a small hanging-lamp, and fastened a 
coat over the scuttle, so that the light would not at- 
tract the attention of Morgan and the men ashore, I 
began work on the desk. The three upper drawers 
were locked, but the keyhole of the lowest one, which 
I had opened on the occasion of my previous visit, had 
been plugged up with a piece of hard wood, driven 
securely in. I soon found a key to which the others 
readily yielded. Hastily I glanced at their contents, 
but found nothing of any consequence. Burning with 
curiosity to learn the secret of the drawer so securely 
fastened, I drew out the one above it, disclosing its 
wooden top, which was of light, thin wood. A quick 
blow with my fist broke it in, and there lay the parcel 
which the unfortunate sailor, whom we had shipped at 
the Cape, brought aboard. Relocking the drawers, 
1 rushed with it to my stateroom, meeting Jack on the 
way. 

Hurry up, Carl,” he said. “ Let ’s get to work as 
soon as we can.” 

I ’ll be on deck in a moment,” was my answer as I 
closed the door. 

The box was heavy, though apparently of paste- 
board. I tore it open, and found six revolvers cozily 
packed away, with an ample supply of cartridges. The 
whole thing was plain enough. Morgan had discov- 
ered the loss of his pistols, and in collusion with the 
sailor had in this way replaced them, besides gaining 
an ally among the crew. There was no time to reflect 
on the matter, however. Jack had sent Ross ashore 


138 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


with the boat, to direct Morgan to start off the treas- 
ure as soon as possible. Already the quarter-boat 
could be seen moving slowly over the water in the 
light of the fire which illumined the sea for at least 
half a mile. 


r 



CHAPTER XVir. 

As it drew near, we saw that it was loaded nearly to 
the water’s edge. Ross was steering, while four sailors 
tugged fiercely at the oars. Tackle had been rigged 
from the mainyard for hoisting the stuff aboard. The 
wind had entirely died away, and the brig barely 
moved on the slight swell. Everything was calculated 
for the successful completion of the work. 

When the boat drew up alongside she was made fast, 
the buckets were lowered, and the transfer of the 
treasure to the Janet began. As fast as they were 
filled we hoisted away. As they swung over the deck, 
Jack and I, each carrying a bucketful, hurried below, 
and stowed the gold away in the stout closet in his 
stateroom. The money was heavy ; work as hard as 
we could, it was after midnight when the last boat-load 
appeared. At my earnest request, which Harding, 
somewhat to my surprise, agreed to without remon- 
strance, Morgan was now ordered to take charge of 
the work on deck. By keeping him thus employed, he 
had no means of learning the hiding-place of the 
treasure. The crisis in our cruise was now at hand, if 
there was to be any. Morgan would, at the first oppor- 
tunity, either resort to treachery or open violence ; 
otherwise my suspicions were groundless, the idle 
creatures of a supersensitive imagination. As the last 

[> 39 ] 


140 


A TREASURE FOUND— A BRIDE WON. 


bucket-load disappeared down the companionway, 
Morgan, with an added tinge of fierceness in his man- 
ner, ordered all hands on deck. The sailors responded 
with alacrity, as well they might, for the work of the 
night had secured to every one of them what seemed 
boundless wealth, and a run of some two thousand 
miles would bring them to port, where they could 
squander it with the idiotic prodigality known only to 
Jack Tars. The watch was set and everything made 
snug for the night. I at once went to Jack’s cabin. 
He was just turning the last key on the door to the 
treasure-closet, and this he handed to me. He looked 
rather careworn and anxious, though a happy smile 
lurked in the corners of his mouth, and I knew a beatific 
vision was filling his soul. But his first words sprang 
from anxiety. 

“We have secured the treasure, Carl, and ten days 
of good wind and weather will bring us to Melbourne ; 
but we must be on our guard.** Evidently his suspicion 
had revived. “ I feel more uneasy than at any time 
since leaving Boston. For the past few hours I have 
had a vague feeling of disaster, in which there has 
been an uncanny impression of evil to Florence. If I 
had ever known what it was to have nerves, I might 
attribute it to them. By the way, do you believe 
Henry Ross is a man to be implicitly trusted, Carl?’* 

“ To the fullest extent,’* I replied. “ I have seldom 
met one whom I felt more worthy of absolute confi- 
dence.’* 

“ I am glad you think so, as you have probably 
studied him more than I have. It ’s your delight to be 
forever mentally dissecting your fellow-men, you know. 
Is he in his room ?” and, without waiting for an answer, 
he stepped across to the mate’s cabin and knocked. 
There was no answer. 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


141 


“ It 's Morgan’s watch on deck,” said Jack, “ but Ross 
hasn’t come below yet. Probably he will be down in a 
few minutes. My only plan of action is that one of us 
shall keep strict watch of Morgan until we reach port. 
Not a movement of his is to escape us. In this way 
we can be ready for any treachery, and perhaps thwart 
it. It ’s lucky that row with Ross occurred, otherwise 
we shouldn’t have searched his cabin and got those 
pistols.” 

“Yes, that, combined with a supplementary search 
which I made to-night, was most decidedly lucky. 
The mate hasn’t got quite the armory that he supposes. 
I went through his stateroom when you were fixing 
up the place for the treasure, and found these.” Here 
I displayed the revolvers and ammunition. “They 
came aboard, as I fancied at the time, in the package 
Joe brought with him when he shipped at the Cape.” 

“ Well, Carl,” broke in my friend, “ you have been 
in the right all along, and Morgan would have gotten 
the upper hand of me long ago if you had declined to 
come. I ’ll make it up to you, though, old fellow — 
that is, Florence and I will. What do you suppose he 
has planned to do with the pistols ?” 

“ I don’t know exactly. Induce Joe to win over part 
of the crew and then arm them, most likely. It was 
a piece of good fortune that he was killed, if such was 
the case.” 

A rap sounded on the door. On opening it, Ross 
appeared. 

“ I ’d like to speak to you a minute. Captain Hard- 
ing,” he said quietly, as he entered at Jack’s nod. 
“ It ’s about Mr. Morgan. He is plotting some deviltry 
for somebody, and I guess it is for all three of us. I 
was in the cook’s galley a while to-night. He is an 
old acquaintance, and makes an extra nice gin sling 


142 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


when he takes the notion. While in there, 1 saw Mof- 
g-an go forward. I thought it rather queer, as I knew 
there was nothing to call him there, and as I have al- 
ways been mighty distrustful of him — not that he did 
me an ill turn, for I didn’t like him long before that 
happened— I went on deck to take a look around. I 
wouldn’t see anything at first, but my eyes are pretty 
good in the dark, and at last I caught sight of figures 
near the forecastle head. I crept forward as quietly 
as I could, and got behind the foremast. They spoke 
low, and I couldn’t hear much that was said, but just 
as they Were separating, Morgan raised his voice a bit, 
as he said : ‘ Be here to-morrow night and I will bring 
them to you. You have fixed the others, have you?’ 
Luckily, the mate went directly aft, and the sailor 
dove into the forecastle without noticing me in the 
dark. Now, of course, it may be all right, but a first 
officer doesn’t generally go forward for an interview 
with a fellow before the mast for nothing. I thought 
I ’d better let you know, for Morgan is a black-hearted 
rascal, and I ’m sure he means mischief.” 

“ No doubt he does, Mr. Ross,” answered Jack. “ Mr. 
Tremaine and I were just talking of him. We have 
had good grounds for suspicion for some time, and we 
had just decided to arrange, with your help, to guard 
against him.” 

1 then recounted the removal of the pistols. 

“ Guess we can look out for music to-morrow,” re- 
marked Ross, dryly. “Those are the goods he was 
going to deliver to the sailor. When he finds them 
gone he will make trouble, or I am greatly mistaken.” 

“ There is plainly one thing to do,” said Harding. 
“We will take the offensive at once. Morgan will 
not discover the loss of the pistols until to-morrow, and 
then, before he has a chance to reform his plans, we 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 143 

vrill give him his quietus. I will get the brig under way 
early in the morning, and you can breakfast with us, 
Henry. At a signal from me each of us will cover 
Morgan with a revolver, while Carl searches him and 
removes his weapons, if he has any. We can then bind 
him, hand and foot, and put him under guard in an 
empty cabin. But some one ought to keep an eye on 
him to-night while he is on duty.” 

“ I will,” I interposed. Nothing would give me 
more pleasure.” 

“ Or us, either,” answered Jack with a sleepy grin, 
and both he and Ross made for their cabins as though 
fearful that I would repent of my offer. 

Bidding them good night, I at once made my way to 
the deck to begin work as a detective on the redoubt- 
able first mate. 

A perfect calm brooded over the island and the sur- 
rounding waters ; even the ocean swell was hardly 
perceptible. The moon had not risen, and the stars 
shone far away in the black sky. Morgan was pacing 
the deck, and for a few minutes did not appear to see 
me. By tacit consent we had exchanged only the 
barest civilities for some time. 

Seating myself on the rail, with one hand grasping 
the ratlines, I gazed at the quiet scene, whose solemnity 
was deeper than that of the wildest storm. Gradually 
weariness, caused by unusual toil and lack of sleep, be- 
gan to grow upon me. I found myself nodding more than 
once. Of course, I ought to have kept myself awake ; 
only a fool would have done otherwise, but there was 
a numbing witchery in the placid dark of sea and sky 
that lulled the senses to sleep before one was aware of 
the process. At any rate, I dropped off, in the act of 
forming a resolution to keep awake. How long I 
slept I had no means of knowing, probably only a few 


144 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


minutes, but I became suddenly conscious of a thrust 
at my chest, a swift plunge, and the cry that rose to 
my lips was smothered in the waters of the Pacidc. 
Ere I struck the water, the situation had flashed upon 
me. My mind was awake, however it was with my 
body. The blow came from Morgan’s fist. He had 
cleverly taken the opportunity to knock me overboard, 
thus ridding himself of one of his enemies. As I rose 
to the surface, a dark figure was visible, peering over 
the rail, which I recognized at once as that of the first 
mate. Suddenly his arm was drawn back. I had 
barely time to sink when a heavy missile struck the 
water at the spot where my head appeared. The man 
was evidently determined to murder me. 

Now that the trouble had actually commenced, I 
found my coolness and self-possession returning. I 
was an expert swimmer, and had learned how to re- 
main under water for a minute or more without incon- 
venience. It would never do to come to the surface 
again. Diving, I swam alongside the brig, and, guid- 
ing myself by the slippery bottom, my fingers occasion- 
ally scraping against bunches of barnacles, and, 
clutching on patches of weedy growth, I worked for- 
ward to the main-chains. Seizing these with one hand, 
I barely raised my lips above the water to relieve my 
lungs, while I planned a course of action. My first 
thought was to rest for awhile, and then, removing my 
clothing, swim ashore. But I reflected that my friends 
would thus be deprived of any assistance that I might 
be able to give them. Besides, my desire for revenge 
was strong enough to make me want to be on hand at 
the crisis. Finally, I concluded to remain where I was 
as long as I could do so comfortably, and then return 
to the deck. No commotion had occurred on the brig ; 
it was plain that my fall had awakened no one. The 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


145 


'Watch must have been asleep, and Morgan had taken 
the right moment for the deadly assault. Any fear 
which I had hitherto entertained of the mate was now 
swallowed up by hatred and the thirst for revenge. 
Could I have confronted him at that moment and had 
it out in a hand-to-hand struggle, I should not have 
hesitated despite his enormous superiority in point of 
strength. As I hung there against the Janefs cut- 
water, I could but marvel at the strange make-up of 
the man — destitute of even the sense of fear, and yet 
capable of taking so cowardly an advantage of the 
helplessness of a sleeping foe. He was surely the 
strangest mental puzzle I had ever encountered. 

I remained in the water an hour, as nearly as I could 
judge. Then, finding that I was growing numb with 
cold, despite the warmth of the night, I cautiously drew 
myself up on the martingale, and thence to the bow- 
sprit. The slight noise made by this maneuver at- 
tracted no attention. Here I remained until Morgan’s 
watch was ended, and I heard Ross’s voice as he came 
to relieve him. I didn’t want to meet the first mate 
again that night, preferring to surprise him by my 
presence in the morning. Clambering on to the deck, 
I watched my chance and dodged into the cabin, with- 
out being observed by Ross. Everything was dark 
below. Softly I made my way to my stateroom, where 
I hastily removed my damp garments and tumbled 
into bed. Such was the fatigue induced by the labor 
of the day, the night’s excitement and my protracted 
stay in the water that I at once fell asleep in the midst 
of a vague plan for circumventing the common enemy, 
to be awakened only by the clatter of knives at the break- 
fast-table and the rolling of the brig, which was fast 
leaving the island astern. Hurriedly dressing, I thrust 
a revolver into each coat-pocket and entered the cabin. 


146 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


Jack and his mates were seated at the table, Morgan's 
back being toward me. As I opened the door, he 
turned quickly. 

** Good morning, Mr. Morgan," I remarked, pleas- 
antly, taking my seat at the end of the table. A cry, 
like a dog's yelp, forced itself from his lips, and so 
absolutely pale a face I had never seen. It was cer- 
tainly enough to give a shock to the strongest nerves. 
To have a dead man confront one, must surely be some- 
what startling. Seating myself at the table, I con- 
tinued jocularly: "You look as though you had seen 
a ghost, my dear sir, to use a familiar phrase ; I seem 
to have given you a slight surprise. Possibly my late 
appearance at breakfast is so unusual as to alarm 
you." 

A muttered curse fairly ground its way out. Jack 
and Ross were looking curiously on. 

" What 's all this, Carl ?" said the former. " What 's 
up between you and Morgan ?" 

" Nothing. I was merely commenting on the peculiar 
eifect which my appearance produced on our worthy 
mate. You notice that our friend has scarcely recov- 
ered from his surprise, and you must observe how pale 
he is. I will venture to say, Mr. Morgan, that you 
could not have been more astonished had you seen me 
issue from my grave. Could you, now ?" 

“ I don’t know what you mean, sir," the man forced 
himself to say. 

"Well, I '11 explain to you later," I replied, laying a 
revolver beside my plate, for I noticed the nervous 
twitching of Morgan’s hand in the neighborhood of 
his hip-pocket. "This is a pistol that I wanted to 
show — " 

Suddenly, with a savage oath, and with a quickness 
which no cat ever equaled, the man sprang to his feet. 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


147 


WFenched the table, which was firmly attached to the 
floor, from its fastenings, and hurled it and its con- 
tents straight at Jack and the second tnate, who sat 
opposite. They went down before it with a crash, 
like nine-pins. 1 grapped my pistol, but the wretched 
weapon missed fire, and before I could again press the 
trigger, 1 was seized in the mate’s vise-like grasp and 
dragged up the companionway to the deck. Here we 
grappled. A sharp word from Morgan, and three sea- 
men sprang below. I heard the sounds of a struggle, 
but could see nothing of it. 




CHAPTER XVIII. 

My attention was fully occupied with my own situa- 
tion. An athlete in college, I had always cultivated 
my strength, but, strong though I was, I realized in an 
instant that I was no match for my antagonist. How- 
ever, a consuming hatred, whose intensity seemed to 
double at contact with the man, enabled me to struggle 
furiously. At first Morgan tried to hurl me to the 
deck ; but I was skilled enough in wrestling to prevent 
this. Changing his tactics, he suddenly lifted me 
bodily and staggered toward the rail. He was about 
to throw me overboard. The moment I found myself 
in the air and saw his design, my plan was formed. Re- 
laxing all my muscles, I hung a dead-weight on his 
arms, but quietly tightened my clutch upon his 
clothing. 

A moment and we were at the rail. The brig, her 
wheel abandoned, was rolling helplessly in the trough 
of the sea, the sails slanting furiously against the masts. 
Then Morgan, drawing me close to his body, with a 
mighty effort hurled me straight from him, at the same 
time endeavoring to release himself from my hold. 
But he had miscalculated. As I shot through the air I 
retained my grip. Over the rail I went and into the 
foaming waters beneath — but Tom Morgan was my 
companion. Unable to resist the impetus, he had been 
dragged over with me. 

[148] 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


149 


On striking the water, I let go. We rose near each 
other, with the Janet already yards away. I glanced 
at my foe. Hatred gleamed from his eyes, every fea- 
ture was distorted with rage. The combat was to be 
finished amid the billows of the Southern Ocean. But 
I knew that victory would perch on my standard. I 
am sorry to say that no thought of the death appar- 
ently so near at hand nor of the desperate character of 
the situation entered my head. There was only a glow 
of joy at the prospect of revenge. Hardly had these 
impressions flashed through my mind than Morgan 
was upon me. He clutched at my throat, but by a 
quick stroke I avoided him. From his movements I 
was at once sure that, though a strong swimmer, he 
was not so thoroughly at home in the water as I was, 
and that he could not equal me in speed. Swimming 
away a short distance, I hastily divested myself of my 
clothing — a feat which I had often practiced, and so suc- 
cessfully that I could disrobe about as readily in water 
as elsewhere. Morgan attempted to do likewise, but 
I was stripped ere the task was half accomplished. 

“ I ’ll wait till you are ready, you infernal villain,” 
said I, ‘‘ and then we will have it out. I 've not for- 
gotten the coward who pushed a sleeping man over- 
board, and if you can get the better of me now, you are 
welcome to kill me.” 

A few strokes brought us face to face. Rising to 
the top of a billow, I drew a deep breath. As we sank 
into the hollow of the swell, Morgan struck furiously 
at me, the blow barely missing my face. Seizing his 
hand in both mine, I dove, dragging him after me. 
Vainly did he endeavor to release himself from my 
grasp. The strangeness of the situation seemed to 
deprive him of his strength, for though he struggled 
desperately, there was not the invincibility which had 


160 


A tUfiASlTRE FOUND — A ERIDE WoN, 


hitherto marked his exhibitions of physical pfowes^j 
and I managed to retain my hold* 

Finding that he could not free himself, lie clutched 
my throat with his disengaged hand, while he endeav- 
ored to fix his teeth in my arm* This was my chance. 
Releasing my grasp, I seized his throat in turn ; then 
I struck him a violent blow in the face. His mouth 
flew open, and even with the sounds deadened by the 
swash of the seas, I could detect the quick gasps, the 
mad chocking for breath which followed. The game 
was mine. Again grasping his now nerveless arm, I 
held him beneath the waves. If possible, I would 
drown him. His weak and spasmodic movements, 
whose only object was to free himself from my clutch, 
showed that consciousness was fast departing. But I 
could endure it no longer. With the blood beating a 
mad tattoo in my temples, and my lungs seemingly 
about to burst, I released my victim and rose to the 
surface, followed a moment later by my foe, who, but 
partially conscious and with closed eyes, floundered 
aimlessly about in the depths of the surges. Even 
then my hatred was not extinguished, and I started 
toward him. But the effort was of no avail. My 
strength was gone ; I had overdone the matter, and 
now found myself barely able to keep afloat. I could 
not swim a rod to save my life. The brig was in plain 
sight, perhaps half a mile away, apparently broached 
to. My only hope lay in the result of the battle on 
board and her return. 

Morgan was now paddling feebly about, with diffi- 
culty keeping himself above the water. Wishing to 
regain strength enough to hail the Janet in case she 
came near us, I threw myself on my back, where I lay 
with closed eyes for some minutes. My antagonist 
was harmless, and I cared not what befell him. On 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


151 


again looking toward the brig, to my inexpressible 
joy, she was slowly wearing around. One side or the 
other had prevailed ; they were returning in quest of 
either Morgan or myself. Steadily she advanced, 
heading directly for us on the second tack. 

If her course was not changed we should almost be 
able to climb aboard. On nearer approach I could dis- 
tinguish Harding’s figure at the end of the bowsprit. 
Glass in hand, he was scanning the waters in every 
direction. My heart exulted in the safety of my 
friend, as I turned to Morgan, who lay near by, his 
eyes closed and breathing heavily. 

Harding is on the watch ; your evil scheme for our 
ruin has failed." 

An angry look swept over the man's face, but he 
was too much exhausted to speak. 

The Janet was now so near that I determined to 
shout at the first favorable opportunity. It soon came. 
A long roller of unusual height swept solemnly over 
the sea. Filling my lungs as I rose along its sloping 
side, I sprang into the air on reaching its summit, and 
called with all my strength. Whether it was heard I 
could not tell, as the hollow into which I sank com- 
pletely hid the brig from view ; but on rising again, I 
could see Jack’s glass pointed at us, and a gesture of 
the hand showed that we were seen. Our rescue was 
now certain. Harding remained at the bowsprit, 
keeping careful watch and directing the course of the 
brig. 

‘‘ Shall I lower a boat ?’’ called my friend, as she 
drew up abreast of us. 

‘‘ Not for me,” I answered, as I swam alongside. 

I guess we won't for the other fellow,” was the re- 
ply, as he threw me a rope, by which willing hands 
speedily hauled me on board. My strength was gone, 


152 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


but warm clothing and a steaming glass of whisky 
put me on my feet, and I returned to the deck to find 
that Morgan had been rescued and, with a spare sail 
thrown over him, was lying bound hand and foot. 

“ I Ve left him there,” said Jack, “ till you returned, 
so that we could consult in regard to his treatment.” 

“ First tell me how you have fared on the brig. I 
guess Morgan will do where he is for the present.” 

“ There isn’t much to tell,” was the grim response. 
** I had recovered my feet when the sailors came below, 
and they retreated before my revolver. One of their 
mates tried to brain me as I followed them up the com- 
panionway, and I was compelled to shoot two of them.” 
Glancing along the deck, I saw several large stains be- 
tween the fore and main masts. ** That was enough 
for the others ; I ordered them to heave the bodies 
overboard, and put the brig about, though I didn’t 
think there was one chance in a thousand of your being 
alive. It was like hearing a ghost’s voice when you 
shouted. But how in the world did you ever get the 
better of him, Carl ? I did get a grain of comfort, 
however, in remembering how thoroughly at home you 
were in the water.” 

I briefly narrated the story of the struggle. 

“ But now the question is, how we had best manage 
the cause of all the trouble. It would have been the 
easiest solution of the question not to have picked him 
up. But we couldn’t let him drown like a rat before 
our eyes.” 

“ There ’s only one thing to do,” said Ross, who 
stood near by. There was a big bunch on one side of 
his head where he had struck against the side of the 
cabin, but the unfailing quid was tucked away in his 
cheek, and he looked as serene as usual. “ That is 
what we proposed doing before Morgan came so near 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


153 


doing us. We can’t kill him. Take everything out of 
his cabin, tie up his hands, and keep him there till we 
reach port, with a man on guard at his door all the 
time. I ’d be willing to stand watch half the time 
rather than not see it done.” 

The plan commended itself to us. There was really 
nothing else to be done. Sending a man below to 
clear out his stateroom. Jack removed the ropes from 
Morgan’s feet and hands, while I stood by, pistol in 
hand. 

“ Get up,” he said, sternly, “ and go below.” The 
mate staggered to his feet, glancing about with an un- 
certain air. “ Move along,” continued Harding, grimly. 

No time will be wasted in waiting for you to make up 
your mind, Mr. Morgan.” 

There was to be no delay, and the mate, who was 
nothing if not sensible when anger did not get the 
better of him, knew it. Without a word, he advanced 
to the companionway and descended into the cabin. 
Here his hands were securely bound. 

“ Go into your stateroom,” said Jack, when this was 
done. “ A man will stand guard at your door day and 
night. If you make any attempt to escape, or olfer 
the slightest violence to any one, he will be ordered to 
kill you. You have plotted against all our lives, and 
don’t deserve even the consideration that we give you. 
If you are found at any time with the ropes removed 
from your hands, you will be put to death at once. 
These are very simple directions. It will not be well 
for you to forget them.” 

Morgan listened with apparent attention, and then 
entered his room. The door was closed and locked. 
We agreed to stand watch in turns of four hours each. 
Harding made Ross first mate, while I succeeded 
Harry. Personally I felt better satisfied than at any 


154 


A TREASURE EOUiSTD — A BRIDE WON. 


time since leaving Boston. The only unfavorable 
feature of our situation lay in the brig’s being so badly 
undermanned. Still, our position was not in the least 
desperate, and it was with good courage and glad 
hearts that we heard the order to again lay the Ja^iet 
on her course. Nothing was said to the crew regard- 
ing their conduct, or what was expected of them for 
the future. Their experience seemed to speak of itself 
with sufficient force. 

The day was spent before our new arrangements 
were completed. After supper Harding unlocked the 
door of Morgan’s room and ordered the cook to carry 
in a plate of bread and a pan of water. The mate, 
who was seated on a solitary stool left in the apart- 
ment, barely glanced at the frightened man, whose 
terror was so great that he spilled nearly half its con- 
tents before he deposited the plan. Untying his 
hands, Jack ordered the prisoner to eat, which he did 
greedily. At the close of the meal the fetters were 
replaced — not a word being spoken on either side — the 
door was locked, and Ross came below for a few hours’ 
vigil, while I, for the first time, went on deck to take 
charge of the brig. A strong wind came from the 
west, before which the Ja^iet was plunging and rolling 
under topgallants. White, fleecy clouds drove across 
the sky, to which the rising moon gave a pale and 
slightly stormy tinge. Two seamen composed the 
watch, one at the wheel and the man forward. The 
sense of responsibility weighed rather heavily on me 
as I found myself in entire charge of a ship at sea, 
but I was sufficiently familiar with the ordinary routine 
to get along well enough if nothing unusual happened 
— and nothing did. 




CHAPTER XIX. 

For three days we flew steadily before a wind which 
decreased each day from a small gale in the morning 
to a breeze to which all plain canvas was spread at 
night. The brig had made a splendid run, gaining so 
much northing that we were not far from the usual 
track of vessels bound west from Australian ports. 
We had become thoroughly broken into the routine of 
watch above and below. Three times a day Morgan 
was supplied with the bread and water which consti- 
tuted his food ; the meals invariably passed in silence. 
He once asked to be allowed to come on deck for a 
short time, but the request was refused. Since then 
he had not spoken. 

We were all in high spirits over our progress, and 
were planning for the disposition of the treasure and 
our return to Boston, when one morning the foretop- 
gallant sail was carried away under a particularly 
heavy gust. Jack went aloft to assist in bending a new 
one. The job was nearly finished, the two sailors who 
were at work on it having already started down, when 
I saw Harding looking fixedly away to the north. 
Finally he ordered his glass to be sent up. After a 
careful scrutiny, he descended, and changed the 
course, remarking : 

“ There ’s a ship’s boat out there, and I think there 

[155] 


156 


A TREASURE FOUND A P.RIDE WON. 


are men in it, though it 's too far away to be sure. I 
hate to lose any time, but we can’t let the chance of 
giving relief go by.” 

A man was sent aloft to keep the boat in sight. In 
half an hour he reported her as not more than a mile 
away, and that she was pulling rapidly toward the brig. 

Jack, who had kept the glass glued to his eyes for at 
least five minutes, lowered it, exclaiming : 

“ There are seven of them, and as near as I can make 
out, one is a woman.” 

He handed me the telescope. That was certainly a 
woman’s form resting in the stern of the boat. We 
were now rapidly approaching her. When within hail- 
ing distance, my friend again took the glass. Hardly 
had he raised it, when he let it fall, with the cry : 

“ Good gracious, Carl, that is Florence Winter !” 

Too much astonished to reply, I mechanically picked 
up the binocular. Jack snatched it from my hand and 
looked again. 

“ I can’t be mistaken. I know it is she. But whether 
they have suffered, I can’t tell.” 

“ They row too vigorously for that,” I remarked. 
** Better bring the brig to, or we shall pass them.” 

The suggestion recalled the lover to his senses. 
With helm hard aport, the Janet came into the wind, 
and lay courtesying to her approaching guests. On 
came the boat, flying over the long swell under the 
powerful strokes of four brawny seamen. Then a tall 
young fellow, who held the tiller sheets, sprang to his 
feet, and, in a voice that might have been heard a mile 
away, sang out : 

“ What brig is that ?” 

‘‘Answer, Carl,” said Jack ; “ I can’t.” 

“ The of Boston,” I yelled back, “ bound for 
Melbourne.” 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


157 


“We are part of the company of the ship Southern 
Cross. Will you take us aboard ?” 

“ I rather guess we will,” I replied. “ Shouldn’t 
wonder if you were warmly welcomed, too.” 

The boat was at once laid alongside ; but hardly was 
this done, when Jack, who had hitherto kept in the 
background, sprang to the rail, and, with one leap, was 
beside his sweetheart. There was a loud shriek, and 
“ Oh, Jack !” and “ My darling !” and a host of other 
things. Then a silence more eloquent than words. 

After a happy moment, Harding ordered the steps 
to be lowered, and catching, or rather keeping. Miss 
Winter in his arms, he carried her on board, quickly 
followed by the others — four sailors, an officer and an 
elderly gentleman, whom a glance showed to be the 
father of the young lady. 

“ Take care of the brig, Carl, and look out for the 
men a little while,” said Jack, as he led Florence and 
her father below. The strangeness of the meeting, 
and its sudden joy, had completely carried my friend 
away. He fairly laughed with delight, while the tears 
rolled down his face. They descended into the cabin, 
and I saw no more of them for an hour. I at once 
ordered the boat swung on board, as it was tight and 
strong, and much better than any belonging to the 
Janet. The rescued sailors were sent to the forecastle, 
where they told their story to our little crew, and 
chummed in with them as only sailors can. There was 
an abundance of food and water in the boat ; its occu- 
pants had plainly suffered but little discomfort. After 
attending to these matters, I found time to introduce 
myself to the officer, a fine-looking fellow of not more 
than five-and twenty, every inch a sailor and a gentle- 
man. He cordially shook the hand I extended, saying, 
with a pleasant smile ; 


158 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


“ Now that we are all safe and provided for, I fancy 
you would like to know how we happen to be tossing” 
about the Southern Ocean in a row-boat. But I want 
to ask you a question first. I don’t quite understand 
about your captain and Miss Winter. He acted as 
though she was his wife, or, at least, his sweetheart.” 

‘‘ She is the latter. She has been engaged to Captain 
Harding for some time !” 

“Engaged? You don’t tell me !” said Mr. Seaborn 
— for that was the young man’s name — with a merry 
laugh. “ You can’t tell much about women, can you ? 
Tariurn et mutabile^ etc. I learned a little Latin in 
school, and have always remembered that. My boy- 
hood’s experience convinced me of its truth.” 

“ What do you know about Miss Winter ?” I asked, a 
trifle coldly, for, somehow, I felt I ought to champion 
Jack’s sweetheart in his absence, and Seaborn spoke 
rather lightly. 

“ Oh, I ’ve known Florence all my life, pretty much. 

I ’m a native of Melbourne, and we used to go to school 
together. Families friends and all that. She’s a 
mighty nice girl, but I must say I am surprised to know 
that she is engaged to Captain Harding — I believe 
that’s his name, isn’t it ?” 

“ But what is there surprising in that ?” I inquired. 

“ There ’s nothing exactly surprising, when you re- 
member what old Virgil said ; but you know we have 
a way of being surprised when there is no sense in it. 
But the really strange thing is, that you should be here 
just in time to pick us up. We abandoned our ship two 
days ago.” 

“ Storm ?” 

“ No, fire. Same old story — inflammable cargo and 
spontaneous combustion. That is what it is called, I 
believe, when the skipper is careful enough not to be 


A 'treasure TOUNi) — A BRIDE WON. 159 

seen striking the match. The Southern Cross sailed 
from Melbourne two weeks ago, bound for Singapore, 
thence to New York. Mr. Winter and his daughter 
were the only passengers. The former’s nerves were 
a bit shaky, and a sea voyage had been recommended, 
so they decided to take the trip to Singapore. I hap- 
pen to know about this, because, as I said, our families 
are intimate, and, of course, as first officer of the ship, 
I have seen a good deal of them. All went well until 
we had been a vreek out, when smoke was seen oozing 
through the hatches. Every effort was made to get 
the better of the fire, but it was no use. The ship was 
doomed from the first. Her cargo was inflammable, 
and the fire was never meant to be put out, anyway. 
The skipper used his matches and kerosene too effect- 
ually.” 

You don’t mean seriously to say that your captain 
burned his ship ?” I exclaimed. “ I have heard of such 
things, but never thought there was anything in it.” 

Well,” returned my informer, composedly, “ I 
didn’t see Captain Latham actually apply the torch, 
but I am morally certain that he did. He suddenly 
disappeared an hour or two before the fire was dis- 
covered, and I saw him coming out of the lazaret 
shortly before the alarm was given. He had no occa- 
sion to go in there, and he jumped as though shot 
when he saw that I noticed him. The cargo, I happen 
to know, was insured away beyond its value, and so 
was the ship ; add to these things the fact that the 
skipper had a rather shady reputation, though he was 
a thorough seaman, and, to my mind, you have a pretty 
clear case. We stood by the ship about a day and a 
half, and then the captain ordered her abandoned, 
though we might have stuck by her a while longer. 
As there was plenty of time, the two boats in which 


160 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


we put off were amply provisioned, so that we have 
suffered nothing. The last we saw of the Souther7i 
Cross she was driving before the wind, a mass of flames 
to the main-truck. In the darkness of the night the 
boats were separated. I headed our craft back for 
Melbourne, but there was considerable wind from the 
east and we made little progress. We have been toss- 
ing about here for two days. Your brig hove in sight 
about four hours ago, and you may imagine that it was 
a pretty anxious question with us for awhile whether 
we should succeed in attracting your attention. The 
ocean is a big place on which to be afloat in an open 
boat. As it happened, we were comfortable enough, 
since the sea was calm and the boat hardly shipped a 
gallon of water. But a lively gale would have done 
the business for us in a hurry. It is mighty singular, 
though, that Miss Winter’s lover should pick us up. 
Your brig is in ballast, isn’t she.>” 

“Yes, she belongs to Captain Harding, who is tak- 
ing her to Melbourne. He expects to be married 
there.” 

“ Rather a queer craft for a pleasure trip, I should 
think,” remarked Mr. Seaborn, glancing critically at 
the Janet's round bows and somewhat motherly propor- 
tions. “ That is, I mean she isn’t exactly a yacht.” 

“No, but she was obtained at a bargain, and, as 
Harding was in a hurry and couldn’t get a cargo for 
Australia, he decided to come out in ballast and go 
back with a bride.” 

This was not all the truth, but I had no intention of 
saying anything about the treasure to even so honest 
a fellow as Seaborn apparently was. My answer 
seemed to satisfy him ; at least he asked no further 
questions, and I was about to leave him, when his re- 
marks about Florence recurring to me, I said, jokingly : 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


161 


“ I trust that my friend’s sweetheart has not num- 
bered you among her victims ?” 

‘‘Oh, no,” he laughed. “I always liked Florence, 
but there is nothing of that sort. A few months ago, 
however, a fellow named Morgan, rather of a wild 
chap, though he comes of a very respectable family, 
was paying her a good deal of attention, and was said 
to be desperately in love with her. I don’t know that 
he received any encouragement, but I used to see them 
together occasionally, and had an idea that Morgan, 
who has the reputation of doing about what he wants 
to, would win in this case.” 

“ What kind of a man was this gentleman you speak 
of ?” I remarked, carelessly. “ I met a sailor of that 
name in Boston some time ago. I wonder if he is the 
same one.” 

“ He ’s a large, dark-complexioned man, very hand- 
some, though with rather an tigly expression, and he 
has the greatest strength of anybody I ever knew. 
His people are wealthy, and the son — he is an only 
child — is well educated. He went to sea as soon as he 
was his own master, and has followed it ever since. I 
think he sailed as first officer of a ship bound for 
Boston a few months ago.” 

There could be no doubt of the identity of the 
prisoner below with the Morgan of whom Seaborn 
spoke. It seemed equally clear that he had been a 
suitor — and, probably, a respected suitor — for Miss 
Winter’s hand. Leaving my companion engaged in 
overhauling the contents of the boat, I went below. 



CHAPTER XX. 

Miss Winter and her father, with Jack and Ross, were 
seated in the cabin, the latter in front of the door 
opening" into Morgan’s stateroom. My friend presented 
me in the warmest way to his guests. 

“ You ’ll forgive me, I know, Carl, for having for- 
gotten to send for you, but the sight of Florence has 
driven thoughts of everything else out of my head. She 
has been telling me of the loss of the ship, and our voy- 
age has given us a good deal to talk about.” 

“ Isn’t it wonderful, Mr. Tremaine, that Jack should 
have been here just in time to rescue us ? It didn’t 
seem as though I could pass another day in that dread- 
ful boat. But I had the strangest dream the night be- 
fore of seeing Jack and being on board a ship with 
him. I told papa of it, and that I believed we should 
be saved to-day ; and, strangely enough, he didn’t laugh 
at me ; but I really think he wanted to, didn’t you now, 
papa ?” and the roguish smile with which she glanced 
at him might have bewitched a saint. She was cer- 
tainly a charming young woman. Not a tall girl, it 
was evident that she would, at some time, be plump, to 
say the least ; but every look and movement had its 
[162] 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


163 


own peculiar fascination. Her hair was brown, with 
the glow of imprisoned sunbeams in it, while the eyes 
were of the bright, deep blue that one sees only in 
mountain lakes or very young children. Health’s rosy 
banners waved on her otherwise fair cheek, while the 
essence of perfect womanhood seemed wrought out in 
the curves of the sweet mouth. I know that Aphrodite’s 
neck could not have been more perfect. Add to this a 
sweet and innocent mind, irradiating the beauty of the 
body with its own ineffable loveliness, and you may have 
some idea of Florence Winter, as she sat in the dingy 
cabin of the brig, her hand placed with child-like con- 
fidence in that of her lover. 

Her father did not, apparently, hear her question, 
but a merry ripple of laughter and a glance at Jack 
reminded him of it, and he smiled an amused assent. 
Kindly good-humor was the predominant feature in 
Mr. Winter’s expression, tinged with sadness though 
it was. He was plainly a man familiar with the 
gloomy as well as the joyous aspects of life, but his 
disposition inclined him to look for and expect the 
latter. Turning to me, he said : 

“ Captain Harding has been telling us something of 
your voyage, and a remarkable story it is. I was de- 
cidedly dubious about the treasure when he first in- 
formed me about it, though I could but admit it was 
worth looking into. You have been fortunate in find- 
ing it so readily, and, I should judge, with so little 
trouble.” 

“ The voyage has indeed been a successful one thus 
far,” I replied, thinking at the same time that Jack 
had not, as yet, told them about Morgan. “ If noth- 
ing happens, a fortnight, at the outside, should bring 
us safely to Melbourne.” 

“ I believe you introduced Mr. Ross as your first 


164 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


officer,” said Mr. Winter, glancing at Harding. Have 
you a second mate, or does your friend fill that position ?” 

“No,” answered Jack, promptly ; “ Mr. Ross shipped 
as second officer, but the first mate is laid up for the 
present, and Carl is temporarily doing officer’s duty. 
I must leave you for a little to look out for the brig. 
Perhaps you would like to make yourselves comfort- 
able in your apartments,” indicating the three unoc- 
cupied staterooms. “ These are, I think, the pleas- 
antest.” 

They gladly fell in with the suggestion. Miss Winter 
giving us the sweetest of smiles as she entered her 
cabin. 

“ You have said nothing about Morgan V* I inquired, 
as we started up the companionway. 

“ No ; I want to see Florence alone and ask her about 
him.” 

I then recounted the facts which I had learned from 
Mr. Seaborn. 

“ What do you think about it, Carl ?” demanded 
Harding, as I finished. 

“ Why, merely this : A moment’s glance at your 
sweetheart would show that she is as true as the sun. 
She wouldn’t know how to flirt if she should try. 
Morgan, moving in good social circles in Melbourne, 
met her, and offered her some attentions, which she, 
very likely, could not well avoid. Seaborn is a male 
gossip, who has, probably, exaggerated the most ordi- 
nary civilities.” 

“ And how about the picture ? 

“ Ask her about that. She may have given it to 
him, but I am inclined to think that it came into his 
possession in some other way.” 

“ And you think I had better tell them of his pres- 
ence on board ?” 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


165 


You must. In no other way can you account for 
the guard at his door and our visits to supply him with 
food. When Miss Winter reappears, invite her on deck 
and ask her what she knows about Morgan.” 

All right,” returned Jack, peering into the cabin. 

Florence was there, and going below, he soon re- 
turned with her. I had thought her beautiful before, 
but when she stepped on the deck of the Janet into the 
broad sunshine, radiant with health and the joy of liv- 
ing and being loved, I doubted whether a fairer maiden 
had ever gladdened a lover’s heart. She was dressed 
in a close-fitting muslin gown which barely reached 
her ankles, the only color being a bit of ribbon at the 
neck. Her arm rested confidingly in Jack’s, and she 
looked at him with an adorable expression of love and 
trust. Harding came to the matter in hand at once : 

“ I want to ask you an important question, Florence, 
and you ’ll see why in a moment. Did you ever know 
a man named Morgan ?” 

There was a slight flush of surprise as she looked 
her lover full in the face and answered : 

“ Yes, I have known a Mr. Morgan at home.” 

Have you seen much of him ?” 

“ No, not exactly. He is a sailor, and, of course, is 
away most of the time ; but his people are quite prom- 
inent, and I have met him occasionally in society. He 
has called at our house two or three times. Have you 
ever known him. Jack ? I hope you don’t like him if 
you have, for I want to admire all your friends, but I 
don’t believe I could like him.” 

‘‘ I know him slightly,” responded my friend, “ and 
I ’m not exactly fond of him. Did you ever give him 
your picture ?” 

The warm blood leaped to her face angrily as she 
replied ; 


166 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


“ Indeed, I never did ! Why you ask me such a 
question ?” 

“ Merely, dearest, because Mr. Morgan is on the brig 
at this very moment, and I know that he has your pic- 
ture in his possession.” 

She stood breathless with surprise. 

“ I ’ll tell you all about it in a moment,” continued 
my friend, but I want your father to know. Won’t 
you step this way a moment, Mr. Winter?” he called, 
as the latter’s head appeared above the companionw^y. 

Then briefly, but omitting nothing of importance, he 
recounted the story of the mate. When he had con- 
cluded there was a brief silence. Florence had grown 
pale during the recital, and now clung more closely to 
her lover’s arm, as though to be sure that he was really 
safe beside her. Mr. Winter at last spoke : 

“ I know Mr. Morgan quite well, and should judge 
him capable of attempting anything to carry out a 
scheme he had once formed. I shall, however, be 
much averse to making his family any trouble on his 
account, and I presume, Mr. Harding, that you will be 
willing to release him on our arrival at Melbourne.” 

“Most assuredly,” returned Jack. “All I want is 
to get Florence and the treasure safe ashore. Then 
I shall be glad to shake hands with Tom and call it 
quits.” 

“ In the meantime,” resumed Mr. Winter, “you will, 
of course, guard him as usual. Indeed, I do not think 
that you can take too many precautions to prevent his 
doing mischief.” 

“ But you have no notion how Morgan came to know 
that I was going to hunt up a buried treasure or how 
he came by Florence’s picture ?” 

“ There is nothing particularly singular about the 
latter, though I don’t know, of course, in what way he 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


167 


gained possession of it. He might have removed it 
from some album in my house, or have gotten it at the 
photographer’s. Perhaps,” he added, a little mali- 
ciously, “,the young lady did give it, to him and has 
forgotten about it, now that the affair is under the 
jealous eye of her sweetheart.” 

“ Now, father, you are just too mean. You know I 
wouldn’t — ” 

“ But it is decidedly strange about the other matter,” 
her father went on, smiling amusedly at his daughter’s 
indignation. “ It is possible that you and Florence 
may have spoken of the treasure on some of the 
numerous rambles you were so fond of taking, and 
Morgan perhaps overheard you, either accidentally or 
by design. We can’t say just how it came about, but 
you may be assured that it occurred naturally and 
without any great amount of plotting or underhand 
work. Such things happen very simply when you come 
to understand them. Now, I remember once how a 
friend of mine — ” 

“ Dont’t, papa,” interposed Florence, “ please don’t 
tell about Mr. Roberts now. You remember you told 
us of that when Jack was in Melbourne.” 

“ Did I ?” answered Mr. Winter, good-naturedly. 
“Well, I ’ll forbear then, though it is my favorite 
story. No matter, my boy, how our friend Morgan 
did know about the money. You have got it, and less 
than two weeks of this weather will bring your career 
as a treasure-hunter to an end. Just come below and 
show it to Florence and me. You don’t know how 
eager we are to see something that I, at least, always 
supposed existed in the brains of novelists only.” 

Accompanied by myself, they entered Jack’s cabin. 
The massive door was thrown open, revealing the pile 
of metal. Mr. Winter examined it keenly, peering at 


168 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


the coins through his gold-bowed spectacles. Flor- 
ence was too much wrapped up in her lover to give the 
meaner treasure much attention. 

“Yes,” said the old gentleman, standing back and 
gazing at the dull, yellowish heap, “ it is old Spanish 
gold, and no mistake. You 've made a fortune, my 
boy, and you deserve it, too. Better hunt over the 
rest of your grandfather’s papers and see if you can’t 
strike another memorandum. Guess there is more in 
the hidden-treasure theory than has generally been 
believed. For upon my word, I never thought you 
would find it. Jack !” 

“ I knew it wasn't a dream when I tumbled ten feet 
down that hole on the island and saw the money. 
Florence was the only one who really thought as I 
did. You see faith was a good deal better than doubt 
in this case, at all events.” 

“Lock up your money, my dear fellow,” interrupted 
Mr. Winter, with a benignant smile, “ and let 's go to 
dinner. I think I heard the cook ring a moment ago. 
I am quite anxious for a warm meal, after two days of 
uncooked food in an open boat,” and he merrily led 
the way to the main cabin. 

It was a jolly party that gathered about the dinner 
table. The sight of the treasure seemed to act as a 
stimulant upon Florence’s father, who laughed and 
joked incessantly. He was eminently a man of busi- 
ness, a thorough lover of wealth, and years spent in 
the struggle for the fortune which he had acquired 
made him appreciate Jack’s wonderful good luck in so 
easily stowing away a cool half million. 

Florence, aglow with happiness, sat beside her lover, 
and I do not think that her honest appetite detracted 
in the least from her winning loveliness. Women who 
cannot or will not eat don’t have the roses which 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


169 


blushed on my heroine’s plump cheeks. No wonder 
Morgan had stolen her picture ! I wouldn’t hesitate 
to do so myself. Ross contributed much to our jollity 
by his dry and kindly humor, and it was with a sense 
of thorough satisfaction and good feeling that we at 
last arose from the table. When th*e others had gone 
on deck, Harry and I made the midday visit to Mor- 
gan. No words passed between us, though he must 
have known that something unusual had happened 
from the movement in the cabin. But he kept his 
own counsel, and asked no questions. His wrists were 
sore and inflamed — for the ropes had cut into them 
badly. Procuring a bottle of liniment, I bathed them 
carefully, and on replacing the cords, bound them less 
tightly than usual. I did not much care if Morgan 
should be able to remove them, for, guarded as he was, 
it was hard to see what damage he could do. 

The afternoon was spent on. the deck. A glorious 
breeze came direct from the desired quarter, rendering 
the otherwise sultry temperature endurable, with the 
help of a sail for an awning. The old brig, inspired by 
the delight of her owner, seemed fairly to shake her 
round sides with pleasure, as she lurched and rolled, 
dipping an occasional sea over her bows as if for her 
own refreshment. Seaborn, who had already shown 
himself a clever fellow, was of our party. The. loss of 
the Southern Cross was again recounted, none of the 
details being omitted this time. Rapidly sped the 
happy hours. Relief from anxiety and her lover’s 
presence acted upon Florence as the sun upon the 
close-sealed lily. She glowed and sparkled, shedding 
forth that tender but intoxicating spiritual yet semi- 
physical radiance which comes alone from a fresh and 
innocent maiden in the flush of opening woman- 
hood, a radiant glory that the white of the lily and 


170 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


the blush of the rose faintly and inadequately sym- 
bolize. 

Gradually the sun sank into a mass of dull clouds, 
which now flashed into a blaze of red and yellow. The 
wind, which had blown hard early in the day, subsided, 
sighing tenderly through the rigging as though in 
recognition of the love of the man and the woman who 
sat beneath. A benignant calm fell upon sea and sky. 
Our conversation instinctively became hushed, and at 
last ceased, as the gentleness of the evening descended 
upon the ocean. The breeze for a time kept the sails 
expanded, but at last their round surfaces wrinkled 
here and there, the royals quivered, shook, then flapped 
idly against the masts, as the profound peace gathered 
upon the bosom of the mighty waters. 

A light lunch was spread on deck, as the evening 
was too beautiful to permit the thought of going be- 
low into the close and stuffy cabin. Hardly had the 
sunset glow faded, when the moon arose, shedding her 
benignant luster on sea and sky. The whole scene 
was the embodiment of peace and rest. Harding and 
his betrothed slowly paced the length of the brig’s 
deck, the moonlight giving an ethereal luster to the 
maiden’s beauty. And there was a great calm ; but 
disaster was close at hand. 



CHAPTER XXI. 


By midnight the deck was deserted, save for the soli- 
tary watch forward and the never-failing man at the 
wheel. The brig slumbered on the surface of the 
deep not less profoundly than did her crew in the fore- 
castle. A little later I came on deck for a few minutes. 
A slight breeze had risen, under whose pressure the 
Janet was moving steadily on her course. The 
wind had brought a fog along with it, which was 
rapidly increasing in density and with which the 
hitherto bright rays of the moon were waging a sickly 
and disheartened warfare. Barely had I retired to the 
cabin when there was a hard shock, followed by the 
ominous sound of grinding timbers. Something 
scraped along the bottom of the brig, then all was 
still. The silence was but for a moment, however. 
There was a rush of trampling feet on deck, and the 
frightened cries of men terrified by their very ignor- 
ance of the object of their fear. 

With one leap I regained the deck. 

‘‘ For Heaven’s sake what has happened ?” I cried to 
the seamen who were filing out of the forecastle and 
hurrying aft. 

ri7i] 


172 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


“ We run into something, sir,” answered one of 
them, “ and she ’s badly stove forward.” 

Indeed, I could already hear the water as it swashed 
and gurgled in the empty hold. By this time Jack, 
holding Florence in his arms and closely followed by 
Mr. Winter, appeared. 

“ I ’m not frightened, dear,” she said. “ Put me 
down and see what is the matter.” 

Handing her to her father, who stood trembling vio- 
lently, we rushed forward, where we met Ross, who 
had just completed his examination. 

“ What is it, Harry ?” asked Harding, breathlessly. 

“ She 's all smashed in, and will go down within ten 
minutes ! Look over there !” 

He pointed to the bows. And a sorry sight it was. 
A jagged hole at least a yard in diameter had been 
made through the sheathing and stout oak planking of 
the brig, into which the black water was rushing with 
a deadly chugging sound. One glance was enough. 

“ Clear away the boats, men, and don’t waste a second 
about it, if you care a straw for your lives ! She is 
going to sink under our feet !” shouted Jack. “ Mr. 
Ross, go below and release Morgan !” 

With the haste of men who knew their danger, the 
orders were obeyed. Mr. Seaborn, his men under good 
control, was busy with his boat. It was hastily agreed 
that the Janet's people should put off in the quarter- 
boat, while the rescued crew manned the boat in which 
they came to the brig. Scarcely had the work of pro- 
visioning been begun, when the Janet^ with a sicken- 
ing lurch forward, perceptibly settled. 

“ Lower away !” yelled Jack. 

In a trice the two boats were alongside. Florence 
and her father were the first to enter. Then the rest 
of us tumbled in promiscuously. Morgan had been 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


173 


forgotten in the hurry and excitement, as Ross had 
been busy on deck and had failed to obey Harding’s 
direction in regard to him. The other boat had already 
pushed off, and we were about to do likewise, when a 
dark form sprang to the rail and leaped down. It was 
the first mate. In some way he had broken open the 
door of the room in which he was confined. My leav- 
ing him less securely bound than usual had probably 
saved his life. Neither Mr. Winter nor his daughter, 
whom he was supporting, noticed the man, and in the 
faint moonlight Morgan could not have recognized 
them, closely wrapped as they were. 

The Janet was now low down in the water. To re- 
main longer by her was foolhardy. A few powerful 
strokes put us some hundred yards away, where we 
lay to, gazing with fascinated eyes as the doomed craft 
was slowly absorbed into her liquid tomb. The sight 
was inexpressibly touching, sending tears to the eyes 
and a quiver to the heart. So gallantly had she served 
us in storm and sunshine and in all the strange adven- 
tures of the voyage, that we had come to associate her 
with all our experiences. It was like seeing the death of 
a tried and trusted friend. The very unconsciousness 
of her fate added to its pathos. She had fought her 
battle bravely. In the dim loneliness of the quiet night 
it was hard to realize that she was meeting the doom 
that three thousand leagues of stormy seas had been 
unable to inflict. 

“ What could she have struck ?” I asked, breaking 
the silence for the first time. “ An unknown reef ?” 

I think not,” answered Jack. “ It did not feel like 
that. I heard the scraping along the keel as she passed 
over, and the thing wasn’t firm or solid enough for 
land, A sunken wreck, I have no doubt, which had 
gone down a few feet, where it drifted about with the 


174 


A TREASURE EOUNU — A RRIUE WON. 


currents. There are thousands of them in the sea, but 
the chances are a million to one against a collision.” 

Again there was silence. No one had the heart to 
speak. Our boat lay apparently in a strong current, 
for we were drifting rapidly from the brig, which could 
now be barely discerned in the smother of haze. The 
other boat had already disappeared. Suddenly a shoot- 
ing star, so bright that it penetrated even the blanket 
of fog, caught every eye. In awe we watched its grue- 
some rush through the gloom. There in the solitude 
and silence of the night, with the growling sea so near 
that one could touch it with the hand, it seemed an 
uncanny portent of evil. As for relief we turned to 
look for the brig. She was gone. Involuntarily each 
drew a long breath and looked at the others. 

“Well,” said the second mate, with his philosophic 
smile, “ I guess that money ’s gone where it won’t be 
fished up in a hurry.” 

True enough. A moment had swallowed the object 
of all our struggles. But there was no time to waste 
on thoughts of the treasure we had lost. Our situa- 
tion engrossed every energy. No one can ever realize, 
except by experience, the unutterable loneliness, the 
overwhelming sense of helplessness which oppress 
men adrift in an open boat thousands of miles from 
land or hope of relief. A ship is feeble enough in the 
hands of the sea, but you are raised a few feet from 
its surface and can at least shut yourself away from the 
sight of it. But the gunwale of the quarter-boat was 
not six inches above the water-line, and a gale of any 
size would inevitably engulf us. We were, to be sure, 
in what is called a frequented part of the ocean, but 
one who has sailed from New York to Liverpool again 
and again without the sign of a sail during the whole 
passage, knows what that means. We might be picked 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


175 


Up at once, as was the crew of the Southern Cross ; 
and we might — but it was neither agreeable nor worth 
while to reflect on what might occur. The sound of 
oars broke the silence which followed Ross’s remark, 
and Mr. Seaborn’s boat drew near. An earnest con- 
sultation was held in regard to our course, it being 
decided to head for the Australian coast, which lay 
some twenty-five hundred miles to the east. If not 
picked up, we had a fighting chance of making land, 
though this meant fair winds and pleasant weather. 
It was agreed to keep together if possible. Jack called 
for three cheers, which were given with enthusiasm. 
Then we set to work to rig a mast and sail. 

Stepping into the bow of the boat, I stumbled upon 
Morgan, who lay in a half sitting posture on a pile of 
sailcloth. 

“Who are those people in the other boat, may I 
ask ?” he said in quiet tones. 

It was the first time he had spoken to me since the 
struggle in the waves ; the sound of his voice startled 
me. 

“ A part of the crew of the ship Southern Cross^ I 
answered. She took fire ; we picked them up a day 
or two ago.” 

“ The Southern Cross r repeated Morgan. “ I know 
her ; sailed from Melbourne, didn’t she? Were there 
any passengers ?” 

“ Yes,” I replied, adding : “ Two of them ; a Mr. 
Winter and his daughter.”’ 

“ Florence Winter !” ejaculated the mate, and his 
breast heaved and his frame shook as with the ague. 
Then, almost reverently : “ Where is she ?” 

“There in the stern, with her father.” 

He started to rise, but sank back, as a groan fairly 
forced itself from his lips. . _ . 


176 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


“Are you hurt ?” I inquired. 

“ I am afraid that I broke my leg- when I jumped 
into the boat. It has been aching badly, but I had 
hoped it was only a sprain.” 

Pity got the better of my dislike. I drew him into a 
more comfortable position, out of the way of the men, 
and examined the injured limb carefully. It did not 
need a surgeon’s eye to detect the bone thrusting a 
jagged, bleeding end through the flesh near the ankle. 
The leg was twisted out of shape. Evidently both 
bones were broken. The movement and handling of 
the limb again ground another moan from the sufferer. 
I placed a pocket-flask of brandy to his lips, of which 
he drank eagerly. Making him as comfortable as pos- 
sible, I went to the stern. The mast had been stepped 
and a staysail bent, under whose pressure the little 
craft was easily gliding over the swell, which seemed 
portentously heavy now that we were so near it. It 
was already light, though the sun had not yet risen. 
Jack managed the steering oar with one hand, while 
the other held that of his sweetheart in its tight clasp. 
She sat supported by her father’s arm, with closed eyes, 
as though asleep. The sailors lay sprawling over the 
boat, braced up against the seats and sides, with that 
happy indifference to impending ills which alone ren- 
ders their life endurable. Ross leaned against the* 
gunwale, serenely munching his quid, humming under 
his breath what I judged to be a tune of his own com- 
posing, seemingly as comfortable as though in his snug 
cabin on board the Janet. Mr. Winter, with head sunk 
on his breast, wore a troubled look, while the signs of 
grief and anxiety were plainly visible on Harding’s 
handsome face. 

In a few words I told them about Morgan, 
j “Poor fellow!” said Jack. “I’m sorry for him! 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


177 


He ’s done enough against us, Heaven knows, but I 
can’t feel any ill-will toward him under these circum- 
stances. The leg ought to be set or it will kill him. 
Can you do it, Carl ?” 

“ I ’m afraid not. I know a little about anatomy, but 
not enough for that.” 

How about you, Harry ?” addressing Ross. 

“ Well,” returned the latter, ” I don’t know anything 
about anatomy, but, on my last voyage afore this one, 
I saw the old man set a sailor’s leg who fell out of the 
fore-top, and I shouldn’t wonder if I could do it after a 
fashion.” • 

“ Will you ?” asked Jack, evidently recalling Morgan’s 
treatment of the little mate. 

“Yes,” answered the latter, cheerily, and picking 
himself up, he rolled forward. 

Without a word of recognition or explanation, Ross 
whipped out his knife and deftly ripped up the leg of 
Morgan’s trousers. Then carefully, and with the nat- 
ural skill and tenderness which every true surgeon is 
born with, he examined the broken member. 

“ There are some pieces of shingle lying about in the 
boat,” he remarked, still feeling of the broken bones. 
“ One of you get them.” 

The boat had been prepared when we were about to 
abandon the brig in the ice, and the firewood had 
not been wholly removed. The splints were easily 
found. 

“ Now we ’ve got to have something for bandages,” 
said our surgeon. 

There was a moment’s silence. Each man had tum- 
bled into the boat in what he stood ; there wasn’t an 
extra shirt or garment of any kind among us. 

Just then Miss Winter asked : 

“ What is it, Jack ?” 


178 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


“ Morgan broke his leg in getting into the boat, and 
we want some bandages for the splints.” 

“ Come here a minute, please,” sh6 replied. Opening 
a small satchel, she drew from its recesses a white and 
elaborately ruffled skirt, which she handed to her 
sweetheart, blushing divinely as she said : “ Will that 

do ?” 

‘‘It’s just the thing,” Jack replied, reverently tak- 
ing the dainty garment. “ But won’t you need it, 
dear ?” 

“ I think not,” she answered, laughing merrily. “ At 
least, not as much as Mr. Morgan.” 

“ Hurry up, cap’n !” Ross exclaimed. “ I ’m ready to 
do the job, and the quicker it ’s done the better.” 

This reminder brought Harding forward. The skirt 
was speedily reduced to narrow strips, and while Jack 
held the mate by the shoulders, Ross and I pulled on 
the injured leg, and at last got the bones into position. 

The pain must have been excruciating, but not a 
groan nor even a sigh escaped from the sufferer, who 
seemed to have recovered all his old courage and en- 
durance. Ross then clapped on the splints, wound 
them tightly with the bandages, and after carefully 
wetting them, said : 

“ That ’s the way the old man did it. Guess it ’s all 
right.” 

We now rigged up a kind of a couch in the stern of 
the boat. It would not do to leave him in the bows, 
where the water was likely to break over should the 
wind kick up anything of a sea. This done, Morgan 
was carried aft. He bowed politely to Mr. Winter, 
who shook hands with him. A look of supreme pleas- 
ure transfigured his face as he saw that of Florence, 
lovelier than ever in her sympathy for his suffering. 
Sh^ frankly extended her hand, which Morgan held a 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON, 


179 


moment in his own. He was plainly much in love with 
her, and I could but feel a twinge of pity as I thought 
of the bitter disappointment which either had been or 
would shortly be his. Florence at once returned to 
her father’s side after greeting the mate, who, breathing 
heavily for the first time, closed his eyes and was 
silent. 



» \ 



CHAPTER XXII. 

Though morning was now close at hand, I fell into a 
sound sleep the moment I lay down on the hard bottom 
of the boat, only to be shortly awakened by a dash of 
cold water square in my face. The sun had just thrust 
itself above the horizon, bringing more wind with it. 
The fog had blown away. The tiny craft was plung- 
ing and driving into the long swell, and the best of 
judgment together with the nimblest of hands were 
required to prevent the seas from curling over into 
her. Jack’s firm grasp held the steering oar, however, 
under whose skillful guidance she was making tolerably 
good weather of it. Most of the men were still asleep. 
A kind of bed had been made up of odd ends of sail- 
cloth, on which Florence was slumbering peacefully, 
her lips slightly parted, and a faint smile hovering 
over her sweet face. Mr. Winter sat by her side, his 
face buried in his hands. The sun shed a glorious 
luster upon the deep blue of the ocean, and, aboard a 
stout ship, the lively breeze would have been most 
[i8o] 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


181 


welcome. But wind was the chief thing we had to 
dread. The merest suggestion of a gale would render 
our situation precarious indeed. The boat might live 
awhile, but the chances were that, heavily laden as she 
was, the first sea would break over and drown her. 
Not a thing was in sight. The other boat had disap- 
peared in the night — a matter not to be much won- 
dered at. Indeed, we had little hope of being able to 
keep together for any length of time. 

“ What do you make of the weather. Jack ?” I asked. 

He glanced uneasily at the horizon, as, no doubt, he 
had done a thousand times before, as he replied : 

“ I can't tell much about it. The wind has increased 
all night, and the sun has brought a capful more. I 
wish you would overhaul the provisions, Carl, and see 
how much we have. I don’t know just what was put 
aboard, but I fear the men will have to go on short al- 
lowance at once.” 

It required but little time to make the investigation. 
There were two small kegs partially filled with water, 
each containing some two gallons. A good supply of 
ship-bread had been thrown into the boat, enough to 
last a month on moderately short rations. There was 
no trouble on this score, but the lack of water was 
alarming. Harding, who had put the kegs on board, 
misjudged the amount of their contents, though he 
could have procured no more, so frantic was the haste 
with which we had been compelled to flee from the 
brig. Reckoning the quantity of water at four gal- 
lons, it would hold out about six days, allowing half a 
pint daily to each of us, a quantity pitifully small for 
one’s needs under the sweltering sun, which beat down 
with tropical heat upon our unprotected heads. We 
were eleven in number — Florence and her father, 
Ross, Morgan, Jack and myself, together with four 


182 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


sailors and the cook. As' the boat contained barely 
room for eight, the wretchedness, inconvenience and 
discomfort of our situation, to say nothing of its peril, 
may be more fitly imagined than described. 

After dealing out the rations for the morning, Hard- 
ing spoke briefly to the men, especially with regard to 
the water, saying that he should serve half a pint to 
each for three days ; then, if no relief came, the sup- 
ply would be reduced. He divided the crew into 
watches to' take charge of the boat, though it was 
understood that if the weather should be in the least 
threatening, he and Ross were to relieve each other at 
the steering oar. A rude frame covered with canvas 
was then rigged about the sides of the boat at the 
bows as a protection against the waves. These ar- 
rangements completed, the seamen and cook were 
ordered to remain forward, not coming to the stern 
except when so directed. The fellows had proved so 
mutinous on the brig that it was thought best to keep 
the provisions, and especially the water, out of their 
reach. That we should suffer considerably from thirst 
was evident. Two gills of water every twenty-four 
hours would not begin to meet our needs under any 
circumstances, least of all in the burning heat, whose 
intensity was redoubled by our proximity to the sur- 
face of the sea. 

However, breakfast was eaten in tolerable spirits. 
Morgan declined the offered sea biscuit, but eagerly 
drank his allowance of water, which, it was decided, 
should be served twice a day, at morning and night, 
when any one might take the whole or a part of his 
daily half pint. To prevent evaporation, the contents 
of the two kegs were poured into one, and this, se- 
curely fastened in the stern of the boat, was covered 
with sailcloth. 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


183 


I Nothing remained but to watch and wait through the 
' long day. Our little craft flew swiftly over the rolling 
j surges, under the guidance of Harding’s practiced 
hand. As hour after hour passed, bringing nothing to 
interfere with our progress and no new dangers, we 
began to grow comparatively light-hearted. It was 
extremely uncomfortable, of course, to be cooped up in 
a small boat in mid-ocean, and no doubt we should be 
rejoiced to stand on dry land again ; but we were 
really getting on well enough, and if the wind would 
only last, and the weather remain fair, we could sail 
all the way to Australia easily enough. We even 
dared to joke a little about it, and said that the boat 
was as good as the brig, and that we didn’t care about 
being picked up. Yet how every heart leaped to the 
throat with a wild yearning of hope and mad joy when, 
late in the afternoon, Ross, who had been gazing to- 
ward the northern horizon, bracing himself against the 
spar which served as a mast, announced a sail. Only 
three of us could see it, the topsails of a distant ship, 
hull and deck down, thrusting themselves barely above 
the brim of the ocean. What her course was we could 
not tell, and she was gone ere we could decide 
whether to attempt working toward her. There was 
no more joking about not wanting to be rescued. A 
dull ache throbbed in every breast when the tiny speck 
could be seen no more. 

Morgan lay in a semi-stupor all day, though his half- 
closed eyes were never turned away from Florence 
Winter. An expression of pain and anger shot over 
his face when he saw her, with confiding look, place 
her hand in that of her lover ; but it might have been 
caused by his injured leg. 

Toward noon Ross removed a few of the bandages 
and soaked the others in sea water. The whole limb 


184 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


was now badly inflamed. It was not doing well, and 
plainly needed the most skillful treatment. But nothing 
could be done beyond keeping it cool with frequent i 
douches of salt water, which seemed to give temporary I 
relief. ! 

This done, Ross relieved Jack at the helm, the latter 
having kept it ever since the brig went down. The 
seas were beginning to run high, and the boat required 
the closest kind of watching. Harding continued to 
keep a vigilant eye on the waves and the boat. He 
allowed himself no rest ; indeed, I hardly think that 
he slept soundly for a single hour during the days that 
followed. He watched over Florence with a brooding 
fondness, combining the solicitude of a parent with 
that of a lover, and doing everything possible to miti- 
gate the inevitable discomfort, to say nothing of hard- 
ship, which she peculiarly encountered. The brave 
lassie showed true Anglo-Saxon pluck, however. Not 
a murmur escaped her lips at any time. Every service 
was rewarded with a smile like the sunshine in its 
brightness and benignity. Jack urged her to share 
with him his gill of water ; but she insisted that she 
had had enough, and that he must use it to keep up his 
strength and courage. 

“ For what should I do if you were ill, dearest ?” she 
pleaded ; and her lover finally yielded ; at least she 
thought he did ; but I saw that Jack did not drink the 
few drops remaining in the cup, but stealthily poured 
them into the empty keg when he thought himself un- 
observed. 

No one ignorant of the maddening power of thirst 
can realize the self-sacrifice which this deed embodied. 
To be sure, none of us had experienced any real agony 
as yet, through lack of water. Clouds partially ob- 
scured the sun in the afternoon, rendering the temper- 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


185 


ature more endurable, and damp cloths on head and 
chest had kept down the feeling of thirst somewhat. 
But many an eager glance was sent toward the cask 
all day, and when the water was served in the evening, 
two of the sailors could scarcely control their impa- 
tience, one of them spilling a portion in his haste to 
raise the cup to his mouth. I did not think that I had 
suffered much during the day, but a sense of pleasure 
as exquisite as indescribable thrilled me as the sweet 
draught touched my lips, and I thought that I would 
give worlds for its repetition. 

We could no doubt sustain life for a week, and per- 
haps a while longer, on the supply of water, although 
with constant suffering ; but if help did not come then 
— well, but we would hope and pray that it might, or 
that the precious fluid might come down from heaven. 

The slow hours wore away at last, bringing the 
blessed night. There was more coolness and the air 
seemed humid. All the spare sails were spread about 
the boat in the hope that it might rain or that the 
canvas might collect enough moisture to enable us to 
wring out a few drops in the morning. 

Morgan had hardly taken his eyes from Florence and 
her lover throughout the day, but all on fire though he 
was with love and jealousy, he gave no sign of emotion. 
The accident might prove a blessing to us in the end, 
as by it he was disabled for doing any mischief. He 
expressed no gratitude toward Ross for his unremitting 
care until the third night in the boat, when, after 
Harry had dampened the bandages and done everything 
in his power to render him comfortable, Morgan 
looked him full in the face and said slowly, with a touch 
of feeling : 

“ I thank you very much, Mr. Ross," to which the 
latter made no reply. 


186 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


His leg was by this time in a frightfully inflamed 
condition and was badly swollen, but, though the pain 
must have been intense, he did not complain or evince 
any consciousness of suffering. 

The second day and night passed as did the first. 
The wind held favorable until toward the morning of 
the third day, when it completely failed, and sunrise 
found the boat rolling sluggishly on a heavy swell, 
without even a suggestion of a breeze. The sail hung 
limply against the mast in the blazing heat of the sun, 
which gave promise of a scorching day. 

Rations were dealt out punctually, but little atten- 
tion was paid to the dry crackers and hard beef. 
Every eye glared at the water-cask, while sharp cries 
broke from the sailors as their allowance was served. 
Two asked for the entire supply for the day, and, 
with the thoughtless improvidence which character- 
izes seamen, drank the whole at a single draught. 
The temptation was strong enough, heaven knows, 
and it was with difficulty that I removed the cup from 
my own lips, reserving a little for later use. Again 
Jack offered Florence a portion of his share ; again 
there was a loving refusal, and once more I saw him 
pour a little of the water into the empty cask. He 
was preparing for the worst, that, by his self-denial, 
there might be something to assuage her agony if the 
supply gave out before rescue came. 

The day was passed in well-nigh unbroken silence. 
Thirst made extended conversation difficult. Besides, 
the heat burned animation and cheerfulness out of us. 
An awning was rigged up, but it proved of little avail 
against the consuming glare, whose intensity was in- 
creased by the reflection from the water. No one 
cared for food ; that served at midday was scarcely 
tasted by any one except Ross, who ate heartily, 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


187 


moistening the last of it with the few drops remaining 
in his cup. Then, whistling a few bars of “Annie 
Laurie,” he busied himself over Morgan for awhile. 
Our only recourse against the heat was to drench our- 
selves with sea- water, for, although the salt stuck to 
the skin, causing itching and general irritation, the 
momentary sense of coolness and relief more than 
compensated for the annoyance. Since the boat 
wallowed horribly in the swell, both Florence and her 
father suffered from seasickness, while the others were 
more or less affected. The sea went down, however, 
toward night, and, as the boat again floated on an 
even keel, we all became more comfortable, enjoying 
a corresponding rise in courage and hopefulness. 

The sailors who had taken their day’s allowance in 
the morning were suffering as much from thirst as the 
others when the evening pittance was doled out, and 
one of them rudely demanded his share for the follow- 
ing day. The fellow’s actions were violent, like those 
of an insane man. With a peremptory refusal, Hard- 
ing ordered him to return forward. The sailor did not 
budge, and loudly called upon his companions to take 
the water into their own hands, asserting that the dis- 
tribution to them was not fair. His appeal met with 
no response, and Jack, seizing him by the shoulder, by 
main force thrust him into the bows. He fell heavily 
to the bottom of the boat, where he lay stupidly mut- 
tering and grumbling to himself. Lack of water and 
the burning heat had affected his mind. 

The occurrence was a suggestive one, opening a new 
source of danger and alarm. We decided that thence- 
forth there should be no choice in the matter, but that 
each one’s allowance should invariably be served twice 
a day. 

Gladly was the night welcomed by all. The very 


188 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


I 


darkness seemed cool in comparison with the glare of 
the sun, and though there was not the trace of a breeze 
in the dead air or from the oily waters, one felt a relief 
as deep and restful as though fanned by draughts 
from an iceberg. Regular watch was kept by Hard- 
ing, Ross and myself. It was no longer safe to trust 
the sailors. In our distressing situation, the worst 
phases of their character were fast displaying them- 
selves. There were no traces of hitherto unrecognized 
manliness and nobility which trial sometimes brings 
to the surface in shipwrecked seamen, but only sullen- 
ness and disobedience. Our experience in the brig 
had happily taught us to distrust them. We agreed 
that in case of threatened trouble we should shoot 
them without delay. It was not safe to run the risk 
of a struggle in the cramped quarters of an open boat. 

The night passed without event. Again a blazing 
sun, rising unquenched and unrefreshed from the sea, 
glared implacably from a sky of brass upon our de- 
fenseless boat. There was something discouraging in 
the ferocity with which the rays beat down upon us. 
How long would the calm hold ? For days, perhaps 
for weeks even, and there was no hope of rescue while 
it prevailed. After the food and water had been 
served, and a sail spread over the boat from bow to 
stern, Harding ordered the men to take the oars and 
go to work. It was impossible to be sweltering and 
motionless any longer. They sulked at first, as was 
natural enough, but Jack told them that they would be 
relieved by the officers, and, after sharply repeating his 
command, they finally shipped the oars and began to row. 
Under their languid strokes the boat crawled like a 
wounded snail over the sluggish ocean. At the end of 
an hour one of the sailors fell back, completely fagged 
out, while the others declared that they could toil no 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


189 


more. Harding, Ross and I then took their places. 
Either our strength or grit was better, for we rowed 
nearly three hours before compelled to give up. As it 
was now nearly noon, it seemed best to wait till night 
before asking the men to resume the oars. The form 
of serving midday rations was gone through with, but 
we could hardly look at the food ; even Harry, after 
munching a mouthful of cracker, with a grimace, threw 
the rest overboard. We were all suffering enough, 
and especially Jack, for the misery of his sweetheart 
intensified tenfold his own. She bore up bravely, how- 
ever, and the smile which she always had for her father 
and her lover had lost none of its sweetness and affec- 
tion, though its gladsomeness was largely gone. The 
flush of health was fading from her cheek, and the 
little hollows under the dear eyes showed the strain 
which she so patiently endured. I had thought her 
beautiful before, but the heroism with which she ac- 
cepted a situation well-nigh intolerable for a woman, 
and the loving kindness which filled her every word 
and look, made her doubly so in my eyes. 

Her father was, however, visibly giving way. He 
sighed frequently and deeply ; his face was often 
buried in his hands, while a vacant look haunted his 
once jovial features. His daughter’s solicitude was 
touching. She often urged him to share her cup of 
water, and tried to give him the encouragement and 
hope that would more naturally have come from him 
to her. I sometimes feared that, in his unbalanced 
state, he might take from her the water she so gladly 
offered, but he always tenderly refused, and generally 
with tears in his eyes, though whether for her own or 
his misery I could not determine. He had suffered 
from a nervous trouble for some time, and the wretch- 
edness of our situation was fast telling on him. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

At last the sixth day came, and with it the end of 
the water. Why chronicle the eventless days which 
went before ? The sun rose, ran its course, and set ; 
in silence we panted with heat and aimlessly tugged 
at the oars ; with parched lips and haggard faces gaz- 
ing stupidly at the sea and at one another. Morgan’s 
leg had grown steadily worse, and was now swollen to 
thrice its natural size. Apparently gangrene was set- 
ting in. The salt water in which it had been soaked 
proved an irritant, ^but the temporary relief was so 
great that he had insisted on its being used, though 
Ross told him that he feared it was hindering his re- 
covery. 

Mr. Winter had fallen into a complete stupor, from 
which he could be aroused only by the serving of his 
gill of water, all other efforts to recall him to himself 
proving fruitless, and even on these occasions his 
daughter could hold his attention but for a moment. 
He continually mumbled a meaningless jumble of 
words, breaking occasionally into an imbecile laugh 
that grated painfully on the ear. 

Such was our condition on the dreaded sixth day. 
At evening, Harding drained the keg of its last drop, 
saying huskily : That ’s all there is.” A silence even 
deeper than usual settled upon us. The last of the 
[190] 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


191 


water ! For six days we had constantly suffered from 
thirst, but the water had kept our misery within 
bounds, enabling us to endure the situation with com- 
parative cheerfulness. But thought shrank from con- 
templating the agony in store for us, unless relief 
came, and that speedily. 

As I raised the cup to my lips, I had intended hus- 
banding the scanty supply through the night at least, 
but when the water touched the parched mouth, it was 
so sweet, and every weary fiber in my body clamored 
so loudly for it, that I drained every drop. Never 
shall I feel profounder admiration for a man than I 
did for Harding when I saw him barely taste his share 
and then place the rest of it in the keg, where he had 
every day poured at least half his portion. Godlike, 
indeed, was the love that could thus triumph over the 
maddest cravings of the flesh for the sake of the loved 
one’s future safety. What it all meant can be known 
only by those who had felt the unutterable agony of 
thirst. 

The night that followed has left only a blank in my 
memory, my next recollection being of the morning, 
when the sun again made its dreaded appearance, 
pouring down furious rays upon the miserable beings 
who vainly cowered beneath the useless awning and 
fruitlessly drenched themselves with the lukewarm 
sea water. When the usual time of serving the water 
arrived, a seaman staggered to the stern and, holding 
out his cup, demanded that it be filled. His eyes were 
bloodshot, and so feeble was he that he could barely 
keep his feet, though the boat lay like a log upon an 
ocean without swell or ripple. 

“The water is all gone,” said Jack, pityingly. 

“You lie!” shouted the man. “There’s water 
enough. You are keeping it to swill down yourselves, 


192 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


while you let us poor devils go mad for want of it. Give 
me water,” he shrieked again, “ or I will kill you and 
myself, too !” 

The sailor was so plainly crazed by suffering that 
anger was impossible, and his evident weakness dis- 
armed his threat. Jack reached for the keg and 
handed it to him, saying : 

“ There is the keg, my poor fellow. If you can find 
any water in it, God knows you are welcome to it.” 

Seizing it eagerly, the man stumbled forward, where, 
with a block of wood, he beat in the head. It was as 
dry as the wood he held in his hands, but he licked all 
the staves again and again. The mere thought that 
there had been water in it appeared to give a sort of 
relief, for after awhile he threw the pieces aside and 
lay quietly on the bottom of the boat. 

At noon, Morgan, who had been in a stupor all the 
morning, awoke, calling wildly for water and turning 
eager eyes to Jack, who said, gently : 

“ There is none, Tom. I gave out all there was last 
night.” 

After gazing fixedly at him for a minute, the man 
looked toward Ross. 

“ I must have some water or I shall die !” he gasped. 

“ I reckon we all shall if we don’t get some before 
long,” returned the little mate, imperturbably. 

“ But can’t you give me some, Harry ?” broke in the 
sufferer. Completely unnerved by his distress, he 
acted like a little child. “ I ’m burning up. This leg 
of mine is killing me by inches. Perhaps if you search 
the boat you can find water, or a little whisky.” 

“ No use in searching the boat,” answered Ross, ris- 
ing ; “ but I ’ll do it if it will do you any good.” 

And he made a pretense of rummaging among the 
odds and ends forward. Then returning to the stern, 


A TREASURE FOUND- — A BRIDE WON. 


193 


he dressed the broken limb, which, all on fire with in- 
flammation and decay, presented a sickening appear- 
ance, having lost all semblance to a human leg. It 
was only a dead mass of putrid flesh. I wondered 
how, in his exhausted condition, Ross could endure to 
care for it. Though he handled the limb with the 
greatest tenderness, Morgan groaned heavily. The 
marvelous change in the man could hardly be explained 
by his suffering in the boat. He had, in truth, never 
been his old self since the encounter in the water. 
Possibly he had received some severe internal injuries 
at that time, or defeat may have completely crushed 
his haughty spirit. When awake, he seldom removed 
his gaze from Florence Winter’s face, and the little at- 
tentions which she could occasionally give him seemed 
to afford intense pleasure. It was plain, however, that 
his end was near. 

^ It came on the afternoon of the seventh day, the 
second since the water had given out. The interven- 
ing hours dragged slowly away. In the night Jack had 
stealthily drawn a little water from the keg and given 
it to Florence, telling her that it was left from his last 
allowance. Pitiful as was her thirst, she refused to 
drink until her father had taken a part of the water. 

The dead calm still continued, accompanied by the 
same intense heat. Morgan had called for drink again 
and again throughout the day, begging in heart-rend- 
ing tones to be given sea-water if nothing else could 
be had. Finally Ross dipped up a cup. 

“ Don’t give him that, Harry,” remonstrated Jack. 
** It will only make it all the worse for him.” 

“ I guess not,” was the answer, as he placed the cup 
to the dying man’s lips, who drank fiercely, almost set- 
ting his teeth through the tin in his haste. “ He will 
be dead before the salt can affect him.” 


194 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


Anticipated as the words were, they yet startled us. 
Death always comes as a surprise ; it is a phenomenon 
that we can neither realize nor imagine until it actual- 
ly occurs, and then it baffles our comprehension. 
Something mysterious, portentous has happened ; this 
is all we know. The dust has returned to the earth as 
it was. Faith alone can raise the hope that a spirit 
has returned to its Creator. Mechanically we gath- 
ered about Morgan’s couch. There was no mistaking 
the clammy sweat on the brow, the filmy eye, the 
spasmodic movements which shook his frame. A 
smile of relief passed over his face as he drank from 
the cup which Ross held for him. 

“ Heaven !” he gasped, I never knew that anything 
could taste so good. Hell must be a place without 
any water. Fire could add nothing to the torture.” 

“You are dying, Tom,” said the little mate, quietly. 
“ If you have any word to leave, you must say it right 
away.” 

Morgan looked at the speaker as though not com- 
prehending his meaning. 

“Won’t you say that again ?” he ejaculated, huskily. 

“ I said that you are dying !” repeated Harry, slowly. 
“That in a few moments you will be dead !” 

The sufferer closed his eyes ; a shudder ran through 
his body. He breathed heavily, gasping once or twice. 
Only the fierce panting of the dying man and the 
feeble maunderings of Mr. Winter, who fancied him- 
self in his counting-room giving directions to his 
clerks, broke the silence. Far down in the west glowed 
the sun, like the angry eye of an avenging God. 

“ If you have anything to say, you had better hurry 
up,” I heard Ross repeat. 

At last Morgan opened his eyes. 

“ I believe you, Harry,” he said. “ If anybody else 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


195 


had told me, I should have thought it a lie, but when 
you say it, I know it ’s the truth. I have no confession 
to make, nor have I done anything that I regret, as I 
know of. I ’m bound for hell, anyway, and it doesn’t 
make any difference. But I am sorry, though, for 
that row we had on the brig over that scoundrel Frank. 
You had no business to do what you did, but I handled 
you pretty roughly, and I don’t wonder you hated me. 
Don’t say you didn’t ” — as Ross made an involuntary 
gesture of dissent — “ I know you did, and I didn’t 
blame you for it. I only hated you all the more in 
return. But you have treated me since this cursed 
time in the boat better than I deserve, and I thank 
you. It has made me come nearer loving you than I 
ever did any one except — ” Here he panted madly for 
breath. It seemed as though the last struggle had 
come. He recovered control of his voice, however, 
though his strength was about gone. “ Except one 
woman — Florence Winter.” 

Florence started, covering her face with her hands. 

Don’t be alarmed,” growled Morgan, whose anger 
seemed to increase with the approach of death. “ I 
can’t harm you or your lover now, though I meant to 
kill him, and marry you to boot. From the day he be- 
gan to court you, I never lost sight of him. I haunted 
your house. I often overheard your interviews as 
lovers, in one of which he told you about the hidden 
treasure and his plan for its recovery. I made you 
ship me as first mate,” turning his eyes on Jack, in 
whom pity and contempt were struggling for the mas- 
tery. “ I plotted against you day and night. Had my 
plans not been thwarted, I should have murdered you 
and all your friends.” 

“ How about Frank I broke in. 

He ^ave mQ a bitter look. 


19G 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


“ I killed the fool, of course. I always intended to. 
The fellow shipped in his place was a follower of mine, 
whom I intended to employ against you. But the devil 
carried him off without giving me a chance with him. 
That ’s all there is to tell. I was a fool not to have 
acted sooner. Now you ’ll marry Florence Winter, I 
suppose, unless you all die here as I am dying. But I 
have a feeling that you will be saved, though if it wasn’t 
for Harry Ross I would pray with my last breath that 
you might perish, for I hate you and your friend, Jack 
Harding, at this moment more than I ever did in my 
life, and if I could live you should never — ” His words 
suddenly ceased, as though his tongue was paralyzed. 
His eyes turned eagerly from one face to another, rest- 
ing appealingly at last on that of Ross. The latter gave 
him another cup of water. He swallowed it at a draught, 
sat bolt upright, his hands clutching furiously at his 
throat, then, with a long sigh, sank slowly upon his 
back — and the great change had come. Morgan was 
dead. 

Despite her fear of the man, Florence sobbed aloud. 
This attracted the attention of her father, who smiled 
in a senile way, as he asked what was the matter. 

“ Mr. Morgan is dead, sir,” answered Ross, who had 
just thrown a sail over the corpse. 

“ Dead— dead ?” repeated the old man, the imbecile 
grin still on his face. “Yes, that’s good. I’m glad 
he ’s dead. Twiddle, diddle, dee ; I shall be glad when 
we are all dead. But where are you going to bury 
him ? There ’s no ground to bury him in, and you ’ll 
have to keep him.” 

“ Stop, stop, father,” pleaded the daughter ; “ think 
of something else, and please don’t talk any more 
now.” 

The old man was still muttering a senseless jargon. 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


197 


but Florence’s interruption was enough to turn his 
thoughts, if such they could be called, into other direc- 
tions, and he spoke no more of the dead. 

“We had best get the body overboard right away, 
sir,” said Ross, as he knelt by the corpse, whose face 
was still disfigured by pain and anger. 

A piece of sail-cloth was wrapped about it and sewed 
closely together. With a brief prayer, which Jack 
could hardly utter, so parched were his lips, the grue- 
some thing was shoved overboard. We had hoped 
that it would sink of itself, as there was nothing with 
which to weight it, but it floated close by the boat, 
rolling sluggishly as though half alive, on a slight 
swell that was now making itself felt. To remain so 
near the dead was, in our excited and weakened con- 
dition, unendurable. Ross, myself and two sailors got 
out the oars and rowed frantically, finally dropping the 
dreadful object far astern. 

A slight breeze had sprung up with the going down 
of the sun, barely filling the sail. It would have been 
a most welcome change from the lifeless calm, had not 
the agony of thirst made thought of all else impossible. 
For a week we had managed to exist in a tropical heat 
on a pitiful half pint of water a day ; for two days 
the supply had been wholly exhausted, bringing thirst 
with all its indescribable terrors. I had often read of 
its torments and had vaguely endeavored to imagine 
them, but no imagination, however vivid, can begin to 
do justice to its infinite agony. 

Parched and cracking lips ; tongues from which the 
blood oozed hot and slow ; skin shriveling on face and 
hands, on w'hich spots, livid and sore, were fast form- 
ing ; eyes smarting as though pierced with hot irons, 
yet lacking the relief of tears, but faintly told of the 
wild yearning of every cell and fiber for the precious 


198 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


fluid. Perhaps the tortures inflicted by the imagina- 
tion were even worse than those of the body. The 
image of a purling rivulet, trickling amid cool rocks 
and mosses and overhung by reedy ferns and wild 
flowers, thrust itself persistently upon my vision, 
thereby aggravating my sufferings. Struggle as I 
would, my mind was inexorable. Down upon the 
fresh grass it cast me, forcing me to bend over the 
deep, cool pool, on whose bottom the white pebbles 
gleamed in a light made uncertain by a bubbling 
spring. Then, from ten thousand mouths, came wild, 
unreasoning cries for water — water ! cries which, alas ! 
the imagination could not deceive or trick into silence. 
By a final effort of the will, I would at last root out 
the scene, so full of delicious torment, from my 
thought, only to find it stealthily and persistently re- 
turning. All definite thought of rescue had disap- 
peared ; the present misery alone concerned us. The 
immediate proximity of water augmented our suffer- 
ings, but the knowledge that to drink it would but 
aggravate them had thus far restrained us. 

At nightfall Harding quietly, as he thought — but 
pain had dulled his hands as well as his judgment, and 
the noise he made was considerable — drew a little 
water he had husbanded and was about to give it to 
Florence, when a sailor, who had been watching him, 
staggered forward, with an angry cry arid an impreca- 
tion whose malignant venom I have never heard 
equalled : 

“Deal out the water, you cheating devil !“ he yelled. 
“Come on, boys,” turning to his companions. “Our 
bloody officers have got water enough for themselves 
and their mistress, and are letting us die of thirst ! 
Come on, apd pitch them oyerboard if they don’t giyq 
it to U3 p 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


199 


Fiercely the others sprang to their feet. Poor 
fellows ! Who could blame them ? But they faced a 
loaded revolver. 

“Men,” said Jack, quietly, “this water I have saved 
from my own share to give to my sweetheart if she 
should come to need. I gave myself no more than 
the others, but from every allowance I kept a little for 
her. It is mine, to do with as I like. I choose to give 
it to her. I will kill any man who tries to interfere 
with it ! Go back to your places !” 

The men hesitated — one of them sobbing pitifully — 
then retreated. Keen as was their suffering they were 
not yet ready to die. Jack handed the cup to Florence. 
She shook her head. 

“ Please take some yourself,”’ she said, “ and divide 
the rest among us.” 

He persisted, and still she refused. The opposition 
irritated her lover beyond measure, weakened as he 
was by anxiety and pain. He cast upon her an even 
angrier look than that with which he had confronted 
the sailors. She shrank cowering beneath it. 

“ Florence,” said he, hoarsely, “ I saved that water 
for you. It was like tearing my heart out, but the 
thought that it was for you made the agony sweet. 
You must and shall have it. If you don’t take it at 
once, I will pour it down your throat. What are you, 
to thwart me in this ?” and he made a savage move- 
ment toward her. 

The man conquered. Submissively taking the cup, 
she drained its contents. 

“ Thank you,” she said, and smiled, infusing into it a 
world of worshipful love and tenderness, of trust and 
obedience. 

Who has ever fathomed the mystery and meaning 
of a pure woman’s smile ? Through it her soul speaks 


^00 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


more plainly than by word or look. It is hardly a 
medium of expression ; it is verily the soul itself seen 
objectively. In some such way, I delight to think, 
though with the added majesty of infinite love and 
power, will God communicate with his children when 
they shall see Him face to face. 




CHAPTER XXIV. 

I pass over the three succeeding days. They stand 
in my mind a confused blur, the very thought of which 
sends a dull ache to my heart. A light breeze pre- 
vailed, though from what quarter I cannot tell. Two 
of the sailors, maddened by thirst, drank copiously of 
the sea water. Delighted into frenzy by the momen- 
tary relief, they drank again and again. In a few minutes 
they were writhing on the bottom of the boat. Suffer- 
ing and privation had made them weak ; otherwise it 
would have been impossible to control them. Their 
hoarse cries and groans were heartrending ; but there 
was no relief. 

Mr. Winter’s mind had fortunately wholly given way, 
and he did not seem conscious of any suffering. Jack, 
finally yielding to Florence’s entreaties, had given him 
a little water ; but he drank it indifferently, and it 
produced no apparent effect. His slowly dying body 
was beyond help. Seated in the stern of the boat, with 
head bowed upon his breast, he noticed nothing and 
recognized no one. On the morning of the fourth day 
we found him dead. His mutterings had ceased in the 
night, and we had hoped that quiet and sleep might 
work an improvement. But his sleep was the eternal 
one. Florence sobbed pitifully over the body, begging 
- • [ 201 ] 


202 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


that it might be kept until rescue came, but Jack ex- 
plained to her the impossibility of the thing, and at 
noon it was committed to the sea, where, to our intense 
relief, it sank at once. His woe was ended. As I 
gazed into the clear depths, it looked like a comfort- 
able enough place for a grave, and I almost envied Mr. 
Winter his peaceful end. 

On this day Jack made Florence drink the last drop 
of water. He looked ten years older when it was gone. 
The knowledge that his sweetheart was comparatively 
comfortable, and that she had been spared excruciating 
agony at least, had* sustained him, and though he had 
probably suffered more in body than the rest of us, he 
looked less worn and exhausted. Late in the after- 
noon, one of the men who had drunk of the sea water 
the day before, without a word of warning, rose to his 
feet and leaped overboard. Rising to the surface, he 
swam aimlessly about, a hideous grin distorting his 
features. We urged him to return to the boat, and 
even tried to pick him up, but he easily avoided the 
boat. Suddenly the waters closed over him. He was 
g6ne, and in a few hours forgotten. 

The wind freshened in the night, and morning 
found us tossing on a lively sea, with a piping wind 
from the south. Ross was the first to utter a word of 
hope. 

“ If this wind holds, it ought to blow us within hail- 
ing distance of some ship. We would have been res- 
cued long ago if it hadn’t been for that cussed calm.” 

The words were spoken so cheerily and with such 
sincerity that they aroused a semblance of hope in all 
of us. More eagerly than for several days did our eyes 
scan the horizon, which was veiled in a mantle of dull 
haze. The freshness and feeling of damp in the wind 
inspired us with new life and vigor. Toward midday 


A tREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


203 


Flof ence, whose gaze had for some time been riveted 
on the sea toward the north, exclaimed, tremu- 
lously : 

“ I don’t want to be too sure, but isn’t that a sail ?” 

Every man sprang to his feet as though electrified. 
Ross hastily clambered to the top of the mast, which 
swayed so violently under his weight that it seemed 
impossible for him to retain his hold. 

“ What do you make out, Harry ?” called Jack, after 
we had gazed awhile in silence at the faint smuge, for 
we could see nothing else. 

Excitement and the weakness produced by long suf- 
fering had enfeebled our vision ; it may have been on 
this account that Florence had first perceived the dis- 
tant object. After a pause, Ross replied : 

“ I can’t tell. Sometimes it looks like a sail, and 
then again I can’t distinguish it from the clouds. We ’ll 
have to wait till she gets nearer.” 

And he slid down the mast and seated himself on 
the gunwale. A glass would probably have solved 
the question at once, but none had been taken in our 
hurried departure from the Janet. At last, Harding, 
supporting himself against the mast, and, making a 
telescope of his hands, scrutinized the distant spot as 
though determined to make it out. It was certainly 
nearer and larger, though no likeness to a ship could 
yet be distinguished. Eagerly we watched his face. 
First disappointment, then doubt was reflected in it. 
Next a gleam of hope appeared, and finally the glad 
words fell from his lips : 

“ It ’s a sail, thank God, and I believe she is headed 
in our direction.” 

A feeble yelp of joy — for I know not what else to 
call it — broke from every parched throat. 

“ Fall to the oars !” ordered Harding. 


204 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


Quickly the men sprang to their places, tumbling 
over one another in their eagerness. The sail was 
lowered, and under the fierce strokes which the fever- 
ish energy of hope enabled us to take, the boat flew 
over the long Pacific swell as though freshly manned. 
Not a word was spoken. Only an occasional glance 
over the shoulder and the eager light that gleamed in 
every dry eye told of the feelings of our thirst-stricken 
band. 

Half an hour of toil, and Jack ordered the oars in. 
The vessel was now in plain sight, heading directly 
for us. I thought she looked like a big bark, and one 
of the sailors agreed with me, but Harding and Ross 
were positive that she was a full-rigged ship. With 
all her canvas spread, she was running at a great rate 
before the rapidly freshening wind, which had veered 
into the north. Already we could detect an occasional 
roll as she dashed into a heavy sea. The aching sense 
of relief, the joy almost approaching pain in its in- 
tensity, the wild longing with which the sight of the 
ship filled us, can be known only by those who have 
experienced them. Our thirst seemed to redouble as 
the will which had unconsciously held it partially in 
check relaxed its effort at control with the coming of 
assistance. The bare thought that the vessel would 
fail to pick us up was intolerable. But she could not 
miss us. Of that we were sure. On she came, the 
seas parting in a wide furrow of seething white before 
the sharp cutwater, and the spray flying in sheets 
over her bows as she launched into the hollows of the 
waves. 

“ She 's plainly a bark,” I remarked, as the vessel, 
yawing a little, showed her mizzen - mast, with its 
spanker and triangular topsail. “ How did you and 
Ross come to make such a mistake ?” 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


205 


Guess not, Mr. Tremaine," answered Harr5^ 
“ She ’s a ship, if there ever was one." 

“ A ship !" I repeated. Didn’t you see her mizzen- 
mast then, though it was clear enough that she was a 
bark before ?’’ 

Ross looked at Jack curiously, and I heard the latter 
whisper : 

“ Poor Carl ! The sight has unsettled him a little. 
He ’ll be all right when we get on board." 

I smiled, but let it pass. My friends were the ones 
who were temporarily upset by the prospect of rescue. 
However, it wasn’t worth disputing about. She was 
now not half a mile away, sailors being already visible 
on the deck and in the rigging. We lay directly in her 
course. She was a big craft, with black sides towering 
high above the sea. Nearer and still nearer she drew. 
They must soon see us. At any moment we might ex- 
pect to see her lay-to. Jack again sent the men to the 
oars, to be in readiness to pull alongside, as we were 
now within hailing distance. The big anchors could 
be seen at the bows, and a puff of smoke occasionally 
blew from the galley. 

“ Now all together," said Harding, “ and give her a 
hail. It ’s queer she hasn’t discovered us. Now, then !" 

And our united voices sent forth a shout that could 
easily have been heard at twice the ship’s distance. 
But not a sail quivered, not a sign came to show that 
our appeal had been heard. The stranger was now 
almost upon us. Unless she changed her course she 
would run us down. At the word, the sailors pulled 
lustily, bringing the broadside of the bark into plain 
view. Ere we had time to think or wonder, she was 
abreast of us, passing not two hundred feet away. An 
officer, promenading the quarter-deck, glanced indif- 
ferently at us. 


200 


A TREASURE FOUND— A BRIDE WON. 


“ They can’t mean to leave us like that I** gasped 
Harding. Hail them again.” 

Once more our mad shouts rang across the seething 
waters j but on the cruel stranger went, ignoring our 
peril and misery. Fail to see us they could not. Every 
object on her decks was plainly visible. Two sailors 
were busy forward, coiling some ropes. The officer in 
charge was calmly smoking a cigar. We could even 
see a woman seated near the wheel, leisurely knitting, 
while another near by, apparently a nurse, held a 
crooning baby. All on board looked at us with some 
curiosity, and as the officer turned to the man at the 
wheel and spoke a few words to him, we thought he 
was preparing to lay his vessel to, but he only smiled, 
and, tossing the stump of his cigar overboard, deliber- 
ately descended into the cabin. In less time than it 
takes to tell it, she had passed by and was rapidly 
dropping us astern. 

The hideous inhumanity of the act could not be 
realized in a moment. That men could abandon their 
fellows to die of thirst in mid-ocean, with a port near 
at hand and no trouble in their rescue, was inconceiv- 
able. The silence was broken by the cook, who sprang 
into the bows of the boat, and shaking his fist at the 
now distant bark, invoked the most frightful curses on 
her and her company. No one had the spirit to re- 
strain him. Perhaps he was voicing only too well the 
feelings of us all. At last, from sheer exhaustion, he 
fell to the bottom of the boat, where he lay growling 
and muttering to himself. 

As usual, Ross was the first to pull himself together. 

“ Well,” he exclaimed, I guess we shall be rescued 
in some way, if it 's only to tell the world what a scoun- 
drel that skipper is. I saw her name clearly enough — 
the Home Again^ 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


207 


“ The Home Again broke in Jack. That wasn’t 
her name !” 

“ What was it, then ?” 

“ The Liris. I noticed it particularly on her 
counter.” 

“ Well, if the name Home Again was not in gilt 
letters on her bows, there wasn’t any ship there, that ’s 
all,” returned Ross, as he seated himself, and, from 
force of habit, thrust a quid of tobacco into his mouth. 
“ The Home A gain ^ or no ship at all, that ’s what I 
say.” 

The rest of us were appealed to, but no one remem- 
bered seeing the name. Florence had borne the dis- 
appointment nobly, but the excitement and strain 
finally proved too much, and she sobbed and wrung 
her hands piteously. Drawing her to him. Jack sup- 
ported her with one hand, while he held the steering- 
oar with the other. 

When we get home we can look the matter 
up,” he said to Ross, “ and find out whether the 
Home Again or the Liris was in these waters at this 
time.” 

And they did. But not only were no such vessels in the 
South Pacific, but the most careful search failed to show 
that any ships bearing those names had ever been 
launched or registered. However, I found, after our ar- 
rival in Boston, on carefully examining all the survivors, 
that they differed materially in their description of the 
vessel. I have already spoken of the dispute between my 
friends and myself in regard to her rig. To my vision 
she was a bark ; to theirs a ship. Being much less of 
a seaman than they, I had not thought of her name in 
the excitement over the prospect of rescue and the dis- 
appointment which followed ; but Harding and Ross 
had instinctively looked for it, and their disagreement 


208 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


I 


could not well be accounted for. The sailors said that 
her name appeared blurred to them, and the/ could 
not make it out. I also learned that the woman with 
the baby was seen only by Florence and myself. One 
of the sailors saw two men at the wheel, while the rest 
agreed there was but one. The cook was sure that the 
English flag flew at the peak, though no one else saw 
any colors. There were many other differences, which 
pointed inevitably to one conclusion, and that was, that 
there had been no vessel in our vicinity at all, but that 
she was the joint figment of our overwrought imagina- 
tions, all of which were vrorking in the same direction. 
Florence, with the keener imaginativeness which marks 
her sex, had projected the vessel, which she had thought 
of as coming to our rescue, out of herself. As the res- 
cuing craft would, of course, appear hull down on the 
horizon, her fancy, following the dictates of reason and 
experience, had located it there. When once the at- 
tention of the others was called to this, their imagina- 
tions, which had been incapable of the process of 
projection effected by the woman’s more powerful 
faculty, did perform the infinitely easier task of seeing 
a ship when once another could assert that there was 
one. Ross’s doubt, when he first looked, was due to a 
struggle between the understanding and the imagina- 
tion. 

The ship once seen by the mental vision, the rest 
followed almost as a matter of course, since the imag- 
ination, when possible, conforms to the requirements 
of experience. The ship drew near gradually, as an 
actual ship would have done. She came directly 
toward us, for it was for that purpose that the phantom 
was created by the mind. Of course, she could not 
pick us up, for there could be no such deception of the 
sense of touch, least of all could imaginary water 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


209 


quench the thirst which raged within. The laws of 
reason compelled the imagination to represent the ship 
as passing by and disappearing in the distance. Each 
imagination constructed its own craft, and this accounts 
for the otherwise unaccountable differences in the ob- 
servations of her rig, name, etc. It was a cruel delu- 
sion, but a delusion none the less. 




CHAPTER XXV. 

It is needless to say that these reflections did not 
occur at that time. There was no question then that 
we were deliberately and heartlessly abandoned. The 
wind was steadily rising, but we scarcely noticed it. 
Hope was fast dying within us. We were doomed, 
and the sooner death came to end our woe the better. 
The otherwise brilliant moonlight was obscured by 
vapory masses of fast-flying clouds. A decided change 
in the weather was impending, which was sharply 
brought to our notice by the boat’s plunging wildly 
into the depths of an unusually large wave. She rose 
gallantly to it, but the breaker was a little too much 
for her, and she took in a torrent of water over the 
bows, drenching us to the skin and half -filling the 
boat. Love of life rarely leaves a human soul through 
physical suffering. Suicides arise from diseased minds, 
seldom from diseased bodies. We who had been sul- 
lenly awaiting death with apparent resignation, now 
grasped buckets and pans, bailing with desperate 
energy to relieve our frail craft, which seemed on the 
point of foundering. The clouds were rapidly thick- 
ening, presaging a smart gale, if nothing more. It 
would be a hard task to care for the boat and keep 
her alive. Two of the sailors were practically useless. 

[210] 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


211 


The remaining seaman and the cook helped bail out 
the water. After that they sulked and refused to do 
more. However, we proved equal to the emergency* 

To run before the approaching squall was out of the 
question. The curling seas which towered astern 
would inevitably bury us. She must take the waves 
bow on or perish. Ross hastily bound together a float 
made of odds and ends, which were attached to the 
mast and another small spar. The sail was then 
wound about and securely fastened to the whole. 
Attaching a line, Ross shoved it overboard, letting the 
rope pay out some thirty yards. By means of the 
float it was hoped that the boat might be managed 
and her head kept to the seas. It was a dangerous 
undertaking to bring so small a craft about under such 
circumstances ; but watching his opportunity, when 
the waves were for a moment less violent. Jack wielded 
his oar vigorously, while Ross and I tugged desperately 
at the rope. She came round just as a great sea rolled 
under, causing her to stand on end, and tumbling 
everything, including the sailors and the cook, into the 
stern. We in the bows managed to keep our places 
by hanging on to the rope. 

We were now comparatively safe, and should the gale 
prove short-lived, the chances were in our favor. The 
night that followed would have been a terrible one 
had not thirst dulled the sense of danger. As I gazed 
stupidly upon the ocean, in whose depths we were at 
one moment buried, while the next would see us tossed 
into mid-air as the boat mounted the crests of the 
huge rollers, I wondered, in a vague and impersonal 
way, how she managed to live in such a sea. The float 
saved us, together with the skillful handling of the 
rope by Harry Ross, who had been through a similar 
experience and was therefore intrusted with this duty 


212 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


by Harding, who, seated in the stern, held Florence in 
his arms, protecting her, somewhat, from the wind and 
waves. We had ventured to hope that the gale would 
bring rain with it, but the clouds were light and dry, 
with no moisture. 

Toward midnight a huge wave swept under us which 
seemed likely, for a moment, to topple the boat over 
backward. The mad sailor who had been, like a boy, 
clinging to a seat in the boat, losing his hold, rolled 
overboard. He disappeared in the boiling waters, and 
we hardly gave him a second thought. Truly why 
should we ? Were we not, even now, the objects of 
his compassion who had cast off the weariness and 
misery of the flesh ? 

The gale was of short duration, and not particularly 
violent, though the smallness of the boat and proximity 
to the water made it seem so. Ross was confident 
from the first that we should weather it. Toward 
morning the wind subsided. Gloriously the sun arose 
in a cloudless sky, the air being filled with an exhilar- 
ating freshness from the agitation of the storm. It was 
now the fifth day since we had been without water, the 
eleventh since Janet went down, but in spite of our 
misery, which, unless speedily relieved, must drive us 
mad, the bright promise of the morning aroused a faint 
glimmer of hope. 

Florence’s condition was, however, most pitiable. 
Feebler than the others, she could not withstand the 
torture so well, which, combined with the terrors of the 
night, had completely unnerved her. Sobbing brokenly, 
she moaned for water in such heartrending tones that 
it was enough to drive a lover distracted. She was 
clearly giving way beneath the strain. At last Hard- 
ing rolled up the sleeve of his left arm. The once 
well rounded and powerful forearm was now gaunt 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


213 


and wasted, the tendons standing out in ridges like 
whipcord. Binding a handkerchief tight about the 
elbow, he waited till the purple veins were fully dis- 
tended ; then, with a quick stroke of his penknife, he 
made a deep gash, from which the blood spurted, thick 
and hot. 

Supporting Florence with one arm, he applied the 
cut to her mouth. Half unconscious, she sucked long 
and eagerly, drawing Jack’s very life-blood from his 
veins. Feeling his strength giving way, he at last 
gently drew his arm away, and placed her on the rude 
couch in the stern, where, in a few minutes, she fell 
asleep. The draught had saved her mind, perhaps her 
life. The tense, drawn expression, so painful to be- 
hold, had disappeared. A smile of relief, like that of a 
child, played about her lips. 

But Harding showed the loss of blood. It was a ter- 
rible strain on one in his worn-out condition, and he 
could not stand for an hour or two after. 

“ That ’s all right for once. Captain Harding,” said 
Ross, ** but it won't do to repeat it very often.” 

“ No,” came the weary answer. “ We must be res- 
cued soon, or we had better jump overboard and end it 
all.” 

The sea still running high, it did not seem safe to 
put the boat before the wind, and we floated with the 
drag till noon, when, a breeze from the south having 
ironed out the waves considerably, the float was hauled 
aboard, the sail again hoisted, under whose pressure 
we shot merrily away toward the north. No one 
spoke ; the silence was unbroken save by an occasional 
groan from some sufferer’s lips, until Ross, who had 
been sitting in the bows, said, hoarsely — for it was with 
great difficulty that any of us could speak : 

** There 's something floating a mile or two ahead,” 


m 


A TREASURE FOUNU-^A SRlUE WON* 


\ 


So worn and dispirited were we that hls reiiiark 
called for no reply. A languid glance revealed noth- 
ing, and we relapsed into the lifeless indifference which 
is the sure forerunner of death. Harry didn’t trouble 
himself to talk more. 

Steadily the boat slipped up and down the long 
surges, Jack’s right hand mechanically holding the 
helm, while the other clasped that of his sweetheart, 
who was still wrapped in a feverish slumber. I had 
almost fallen into a doze, when Ross’s voice, clear and 
decisive, broke the monotonous swashing of the sea : 

Rouse up, boys ! We are right on her.” 

So imperative was his tone that every man sprang to 
his feet, while Florence awoke with a troubled cry. Ahead 
of us, not a hundred yards away, lay a wreck. All her 
top-rigging was gone, together with the main and 
mizzen-masts. Her bowsprit was broken off, and a 
mass of sails and other hamper floated alongside. The 
bulwarks were stove in forward, while her decks were 
swept clean of every movable object. Eerie and deso- 
late enough she looked as she lay wallowing in the sea 
in a sickening deadway, which showed that the life and 
buoyancy had been all beaten out of her. A stroke of 
the steering oar, and Jack had brought us alongside. 

“ Should we find any water !” was the unspoken 
thought which filled every mind. Ross, who was the 
least exhausted of our number, stood in the bow, 
painter in hand. Watching his opportunity as the 
boat rose, he sprang on deck, and making fast, disap- 
peared. The two sailors and the cook clambered after 
him. I looked at Jack. 

** Go, Carl, and bring some to us if you find any.” 

When I reached the deck the men were not in sight. 
Hurrying aft and peering down into the lazaret, which 
was dimly lighted by the sun, now well down in the 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


215 


west, I saw them tearing about among the boxes and 
barrels like wild beasts. As I sprang below to join 
them, a sailor, who had just removed the bung from a 
large cask, uttered a yell, then threw it on its side. A 
liquid stream gushed forth, filling the pannikin which 
he held in an instant. He put it to his lips, and in one 
gulp drained it dry. Madly we gathered about him. 
We had obtained water at last. The agony was 
over. 

Despite my wish to bring relief to Jack and Flor- 
ence, will and intention all gave way at the sight of 
the precious, longed-for fluid, and I drank and drank 
again. The body was completely victorious. Conscious- 
ness of and thought for others disappeared. There 
was simply a dying body being recreated by the water 
of life. To save their immortal souls I could not and 
would not have returned to the boat. The delicious- 
ness of the relief, the ineffable sweetness of the draught 
beggar description. Talk of the bliss of love’s first 
kiss ! Byron never went a week without water. It is 
dust and ashes compared with the ecstasy with which 
my lips kissed and bathed and reveled in the stale 
water contained in the dirty cup. Every nerve and 
fiber, every bone and tissue and cell sang forth joy 
and thanksgiving from a hundred mouths. It was 
physical life, almost rising to consciousness of itself, 
inarticulately voicing its joy at its escape from disso- 
lution. 

How long we drank or how much I do not know, 
but at last the thought of my friends in the boat 
asserted itself. Hastily filling a bucket lying near by, 
to which a rope was attached, and placing two panni- 
kins in it, I made my way forward. I could not speak 
from joy and unthinkable relief, but Jack saw in my 
face the good news. Swinging the pail over the side. 


216 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


I lowered it into the boat, but so completely had the 
rescue unnerved me that my hands shook violently, 
and nearly half the water was spilled. Harding again 
displayed the all-conquering power of unselfish love. 
Florence was too weak to hold the cup to her lips ; in- 
deed, from her dazed expression, it was doubtful if she 
knew that relief had come. Raising her head tenderly. 
Jack placed the water to her lips. A spasm ran through 
her body as she tasted it. Then, with a quick, eager 
gasp, she breathed in — I know not how else to describe 
it — the contents of the pannikin at a single draught. 
Five times did her lover renew the supply before 
touching a drop himself, though how he managed to 
do it, dying with thirst and with an abundance of water 
at hand, I could not understand. Florence smiled and 
whispered a few words to her lover. There must have 
been magic in them, for the wan and haggard expres- 
sion which had hung like a pall over Harding’s usually 
sunny countenance disappeared ; a look of supreme 
thankfulness took its place. After sprinkling the cool 
water over her forehead, he at last satisfied his own 
thirst, though it took the rest of the bucket to do it. 
Ross came to the rail just then, and, with his old grimly 
humorous smile, slung over a ladder, by which Flor- 
ence, with Jack’s assistance, mounted to the deck. 

The sailors and the cook were mutually embracing 
one another in an attempt to dance a hornpipe, but 
their legs were still too weak to make the effort any- 
thing but ridiculous. 

Just then the seamen ended their reel. I was going 
aft, wondering at the strangely familiar “ feel ” of the 
deck, when I was struck with astonishment and alarm 
at the appearance of one of the men, who stood stock 
still, with staring eyes, apparently in convulsions with 
the effort to speak. 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


m 


‘‘Look at that fellow,” said I ; “he has surely gone 
mad.” 

Just then the maniac found voice. 

“ Blast my eyes if this here ain’t the old hooker !” he 
bellowed. 

All the men stared at him a moment as though sure 
of his insanity, and then looked about at the wreck and 
at one another in blended amazement and incredulity. 
Finally, Harry chuckled, huskily : 

“ He’ s right,” he said. “ It ’s the Janet^ and no mis- 
take ; but how she ever kept afloat beats all my going 
fishing !” 

He hurried forward and peered over the gunwale, 
the others following curiously. A glance alongside 
showed a ragged hole raised partially above the sur- 
face of the water, and completely filled and choked 
with sailcloth, which the spars and wreckage had 
rammed and held firmly into place. The wreck had a 
tremendous list to starboard, and it seemed likely that 
a sudden shifting in the contents of the hold had heeled 
her over enough to raise the leak above the water, 
thus preventing her foundering. In the subsequent 
tempest, which had plainly overtaken her, the orifice 
had been pretty effectually closed by the wreckage 
when her masts had been carried away. At all events, 
there she was, still afloat, with her owner and the re- 
mainder of her crew on board, and in a fair way to ac- 
complish her mission, after all. It is, perhaps, a sad, 
but, withal, a true commentary on human nature, 
Harding was below, examining the treasure, which he 
found unharmed in its tight compartment. 

The blessed relief from the agony of thirst, together 
with this bit of marvelous good fortune, made us feel 
as though safety were were already assured, notwith- 
standing the fact that we were still on a precarious 


218 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


wreck and in tempestuous waters. We drank of the 
water without stint ; indeed, we could not have done 
otherwise had death been the sure result; but no one 
experienced any ill effects. The cook started a fire, 
whose cheery smoke soon poured out from the galley 
pipe. He found some flour, which, though a trifle 
damp, made excellent biscuit. These, with canned 
beef, chicken, tomatoes and peaches, afforded, what 
seemed to us, a most luxurious repast. 

Night fell ere the meal was ended. A room in the 
cabin, which was comparatively dry, was reserved for 
Florence, while the rest of us threw our weary bodies 
in sheltered spots on the deck, to sleep as only rescued 
men can. 




CHAPTER XXVI. 

The next morning brought a soft wind from the 
west, causing the solemn face of the ocean to smile 
with a thousand ripples. Rapidly as suffering had 
torn dowm our bodies, nature was building them up 
even more rapidly. I could hardly recognize, in my 
rested and invigorated frame, the dying wretch who 
was barely able to move the day before. The men 
were rummaging about the deck, already grumbling 
because the cook hadn’t got breakfast ready. 

Florence was late in appearing, and finally the sailors 
were given their rations, while the rest of us waited, 
rather impatiently, I must own, for her arrival. She 
came up the companionway at last, arrayed in a neat 
woolen dress, which set off her trim figure to good ad- 
vantage. Sleep and rest had done wonders for her, 
and though her face was thin and the hollows were still 
marked beneath the eyes, there was a clear light in 
them, and an elasticity in her quick step which told of 
the radiant health and strenuous vigor that surged in 
the fair maiden’s blood. The lovers frankly kissed 
each other, Florence casting a shy glance at us, as 
though wondering if we really saw the caress, or 
whether we were not as kindly and sympathetically 
unCQirscious as the beneficent sun or the gracious sea ; 

[219] 


220 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


then she smiled bewitchingly as Jack led her to her 
place at the improvised table which the cook had 
rigged up on the deck. From loving to eating may be 
a hard step for the reader, but what lovers ever found 
anything incongruous between broiled chicken and 
affection, between coffee and a kiss ? I only know that 
we were much relieved to see Jack and Florence draw 
near, for we were mighty hungry and the table waited. 

The breakfast was an abundant one, washed down 
with copious draughts of coffee and water, of which it 
seemed we could never get enough. Though thirst had 
been assuaged long ago, we drank again and again for 
the mere pleasure of it. Fortunately, there was water 
enough and to spare. 

The morning was spent in trying to rig some jury 
masts and a rudder. The nautical instruments were 
uninjured, and for the first time since the Janet was 
abandoned, our position was ascertained — a little north 
of the latitude of Melbourne and fifteen hundred miles 
to the west. Harding determined to get some sail on 
the wreck if possible. Could we but rig out a rud- 
der, we might navigate her to Melbourne if no assist- 
ance arrived. But good fortune relieved us of any 
trouble on that score. In the middle of the afternoon 
a faint cloud was seen on the horizon toward the west. 
We all apparently noticed it at the same time. 

“ Either a ship 's a-fire or that cloud is smoke from a 
steamer,” remarked Ross, thrusting his hands medita- 
tively into his pockets and staring away to windward. 
For some time we watched it keenly. Finally Jack 
ordered the men to resume their work. The smoke 
was still faint and indistinct. What it was, and whether, 
if a steamer, she would approach us, were questions 
that at least an hour or two would be needed to decide. 
No time was to be lost in getting the wreck under con- 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


221 


trol, as some threatening clouds were hanging low in 
the west and the wind was steadily increasing. 

An hour passed, the men sticking close to their work, 
though every eye often sought the horizon. At last all 
doubt in the matter was settled ; the smoke now ap- 
peared a long, low, hanging line in the sky, reaching 
down to the sea at its nearer end, where we knew it 
was pouring from a steamer’s funnel. The trend of 
the smoke was in the direction of the Janet ^ indicating 
that the vessel would probably pass within sight of us. 
All hands now worked with redoubled energy to get 
the jury mast in place, that a signal of distress might 
be displayed. The spar in position, a flag was bent on 
the halliards and raised at half mast. The funnels of 
the steamer could now be faintly made out. She was 
pretty well to the northward, and nearly hull down. 
Unless she should see the wreck and change her course, 
she would miss us. A fire was kindled in the galley 
stove, and by keeping it full of dampened wood, we 
succeeded in producing a tolerably dense volume of 
smoke. 

It was now toward sunset, not more than two hours 
of light remaining. She must see us soon, if at 
all. Our suspense was, however, of short duration. 
Lowering his powerful telescope. Jack exclaimed : 

“ She sees us, and is shifting her course !” 

And soon the angle in the line of smoke caused by 
the change in the steamer’s direction was plainly seen. 
She w'as heading directly for us. Gathered aft, we 
eagerly awaited our rescuer. The clouds had grown 
heavier in the west, while through them the lightning 
shot in bolts of dazzling brightness. The seas now and 
then broke over the bows of the wreck with an omi- 
nous thud, as the weary and storm-racked hull wal- 
lowed painfully in the surges. She did not appear a 


222 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


canny shelter from the impending storm, and we 
looked with increasing anxiety toward the long, black 
hull of the steamer, as she plowed her way over the 
fast darkening ocean. She was now within hailing 
distance, the thumping of the engines and of the pro- 
peller as it thrashed in the water being distinctly heard 
above the hooting of the wind. Then a strong voice 
rang out across the waters : 

** What ship is that ? ” 

With equal energy Jack responded : 

“ The brig Janet^ with seven survivors.’' 

“All right,” came the cheery answer. “We’ll send 
you a boat.” 

A few sharp commands were given, the sailors ran 
hastily to and fro, there was a creaking of davits, and 
the quarter-boat came bounding over the seas under 
the mighty strokes of five sturdy seamen. As the 
boat was approaching, we had a chance to examine 
the steamer, a long, narrow vessel, apparently of iron, 
and lying very deep in the water. She had a rather 
worn and dirty look, and Harding pronounced her a 
coaler, an opinion which proved correct. 

The boat now drew up alongside. A swarthy sailor, 
rising in the bow, cast us a rope, and we were soon 
aboard our rescuer, which proved to be the Eddystone^ 
a British ship bound for Melbourne. The captain, a 
weatherbeaten old mariner, received us with refresh^ 
ing hospitality, shipwrecked sailors not being always 
particularly welcome on tramp steamships. 

There was but one woman on board, the stewardess, 
a stout mulatto, so fat that she could hardly waddle, to 
whose tender mercies Florence was consigned, with 
instructions to put everything on board at her dis- 
posal. Beauty is about equal to wealth in its power 
to command the sympathy and services of mankind. 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


223 


The skipper and officers of the Eddy stone were at the 
maiden’s feet in an instant. 

After the captain, whose name was McGregor, had 
seen her safely in the stewardess’s hands, his first 
first question was: 

“ Is your ship worth towing to Melbourne ? 

Jack laughed. 

“ Step this way. Captain McGregor,” he said. A 
brief conference followed. Amazement, incredulity, 
cupidity, conviction chased one another in quick suc- 
cession over the canny Scot’s face. 

“ How much is it worth to you to have the stuff put 
aboard ? ” I heard him ask. 

“ Five thousand pounds,” answered Harding. 

“ Over into the boat with you !” yelled McGregor to 
the men who had manned the quarter-boat on her first 
trip to the wreck. The fellows tumbled in reluctantly, 
followed by the skipper, his first mate and Harding. 
It was a hard pull to the wreck, for the wind was 'ris- 
ing fast, and with it the sea ; but finally they lay along- 
side. With two seamen, the officers and Jack hurried 
below, whence they soon returned, staggering under 
the weight of a heavy chest. This they quickly low- 
ered into the boat, and in half an hour the treasure 
was safe in Harding’s cabin. 

Early evening saw the gale in full blast, to the ac- 
companiment of a lively thunder storm. But I had had 
too much of the discomforts of the sea to have any de- 
sire to remain on deck. The warm, dry cabin was infi- 
nitely more attractive than all the grandeur and fury 
above. It was with a blessed sense of comfort and se- 
curity that we gathered about the well-laden supper- 
table, enjoying, to the full, the kindness of Captain 
McGregor and his general officers. 

We all turned in early, and, though the bunks were 


224 


A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 


hard and the sheets rather dingy, they were like eider- 
down and lavender to our weary bodies. The storm had 
been of great violence, and though the sun rose clear, 
there was an angry sea, with the wind coming in fierce 
gusts as though half inclined to try its power again. The 
old steamer was making hard work of it, the seas 
breaking continually over her. So heavily laden was 
she that all the buoyancy which a vessel ought to 
have was gone, and she tore and waded through the 
waves with scarcely an attempt at rising to them. 
Captain McGregor strode up and down the short length 
of the bridge, a cigar clutched between his teeth, 
watching closely the action of his ship. He was every 
inch a sailor, and though the Eddystone was outra- 
geously overloaded and her natural seaworthiness none 
too good, yet she would certainly weather the hardest 
gale that ever blew if good management would do it. 
Dense black smoke was pouring in clouds from her 
smoke-stacks, the log showing that her progress was 
greater than one would have suspected. 

Toward night the weather moderated. A week of 
sunshine and fair winds followed, such as make seafar- 
ing the most delightful of pleasures. Freed from anxi- 
ety, rest and the company of her lover added daily new 
charms to Miss Winter’s beauty, and, when Harding 
put his head into my cabin, after an evening spent in 
the soft moonlight on the steamer’s deck, to assure me 
that he was the happiest man in the world, I was half 
inclined to believe him. 

On the seventh day we sighted the Australian coast. 
Before night the Eddystone lay at her dock in Mel- 
bourne, farewells to her officers had been spoken, and 
Jack and I found ourselves comfortably settled in 
apartments in the Victoria Hotel. In the evening I 
had stepped down to the office, and, from force of 


A TREASURE FOUND — A ERIDE WON. 


225 


habit, was turning over the recent pages of the hotel 
register, when I caught the name “ Seaborn.” I turned 
quickly to the clerk. 

“ Is this gentleman here now ? If not, do you know 
where he has gone ?” I asked. 

The clerk, as is the manner of his ilk, leisurely and 
judicially examined the entry. 

“ No, he isn’t here now. When he left I think he 
asked to have his mail forwarded to Sydney. Is he a 
friend of yours ?” 

‘‘Yes.” 

“Then there is an account of him in the papers of a 
few days ago which may interest you.” And he 
handed me the files of a Melbourne daily. “Ship- 
wrecked, I believe,” he added, as he turned to another 
guest. 

I readily found the story. The boat containing 
Seaborn and his men had been picked up within 
twenty-four hours after the supposed sinking of the 
Janet ^ by a Dutch trading schooner, which had put the 
men on a liner bound for Melbourne. As- usual, they 
had suffered nothing. Seaborn never seemed to have. 

The day following our arrival, Jack got his treasure 
ashore, and after being closeted a while with Mr. 
Winter’s bankers, exchanged it for more available 
securities. After handsomely rewarding the survivors 
of the crew, he found himself the possessor of a round 
half million. My friend insisted on giving Ross what 
would have been to him an ample fortune, but the 
little fellow stubbornly refused, and despite Harding’s 
entreaties, would not take a dollar more than his stip- 
ulated wages. 

“You are a man,” said Jack, as he handed him the 
money. 

“ I calculate to be,” returned Ross, and left us. 


2^6 A TREASURE FOUND — A BRIDE WON. 

Florence had gone to her father’s house, there to 
prepare for her wedding, which was to occur as soon 
as Mr. Winter’s affairs could be settled. He had dis- 
posed of his business interests before starting on the 
fatal voyage, with the intention of returning to Bos- 
ton, thus making the task an easy one. 

On a bright June morning. Jack and Florence were 
quietly married in the presence of a few friends, Ross 
and Captain McGregor among them. I do not know 
that she looked any sweeter or lovelier in her wedding- 
gown than on many other occasions. Her beauty was 
of that rare type which depends but little on accesso- 
ries for its charm. Of this I am certain, that a pret- 
tier bride never gladdened a lover’s heart. Perhaps 
there was a delicate play of color in her fair cheek, 
which had never been so marked before, as she stood 
at the altar, looking timidly yet fondly at the true- 
hearted man beside her. Possibly a more conscious 
look of love and consecration gleamed from the clear 
depths of eyes which were truly mirrors of the pure 
soul within, but she was really her own usual dear 
self, the true, noble-hearted and affectionate girl that 
she was every day of her life. 

We sailed from Melbourne on the day of the mar- 
riage, taking a steamer for Cape Town, whence we 
proceeded home by way of Liverpool. Jack had 
urged Harry Ross to go with us, and his entreaty was 
warmly seconded by Florence and myself, but the 
mate, with a good-humored obstinacy that was as 
unyielding as good-natured, refused. He had been 
offered a berth as first officer bn a bark soon to sail 
for New York, and his determination to take it was in- 
exorable. We finally extorted a promise from him to 
hunt us up in Boston. A warm shake of the hand 
was the only adieu, but the honest fellow’s eyes were 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


227 


dimmed as Florence burst into tears, and he chewed 
his quid with even more than usual energy, as he 
stood on the dock smiling stoically at the wild waving 
of handkerchiefs with which we bade him good-by. 

The voyage to Boston was delightful in its calm un- 
eventfulness. It was almost as good as being a lover 
oneself to see the joy and satisfaction which Jack and 
Florence found in each other. The days sped rapidly, 
as the steamer, with a relentless ease and steadiness, 
pushed her way over smooth seas and beneath sunny 
skies to the west. A short stop was made at the Cape, 
where we took a steamer, equal in the elegance of its 
appointments to the Atlantic liners, for England. 

Northward we sped, encountering a hurricane that 
raged with tiger-like ferocity for a week, but through 
it all the vessel held unwaveringly on her way. We 
stopped at Madeira, and the next land sighted was 
the coast of old England. Embarking in a Cunarder, 
eight days brought the Highland light in sight, and 
we were at last in the familiar waters of Massachusetts 
Bay. I had always thought Boston a tolerably agree- 
able place of residence, but to get back again to friends 
and books and business, after our experience in the 
Southern Ocean, seemed verily like the realization of 
heaven itself. 

Jack bought a pleasant home in Newton, and is now 
a successful business man, with whose delightful family 
I make it a rule of my life to pass every Sunday, and 
from whose cozy cottage on the shores of the Cape, 
from June to October, we keep up our seamanship, in 
a tight little schooner called the Janet. 

Florence, more beautiful than ever as a wife and 
mother, has three fair children, and I often fill my 
namesake, a sturdy six-year-old, with open-eyed won- 
der, as I tell him how hi3 father sailed away for dis- 


228 


A TREASURE FOUND A BRIDE WON. 


tant seas in search of a very great treasure so that he 
could marry mamma. Harry Ross is a sailor still, but 
he walks the quarter-deck as skipper of a Boston 
bark. When in port, he often drops into my office for 
friendship’s sake and a social smoke. We are both 
bachelors, and, as Ross remarked the other day, prob- 
ably always will be. “ Unless,” he added reflectively, 
“ we find one as good as Jack’s wife and it isn’t likely 
that we ever shall. 


THE END. 


THE SWAMP SECRET 






PROLOGUE. 

' 

A bout a score of years ago, a man was following 
the trail of a deer through a dense swamp in 
one of our Western States. Coarse and wiry 
grass grew thick and tall on each side of a little ridge 
of land along which the deer had taken his way, and 
the sound of the wind among its lance-like leaves, as 
the hunter paused to listen for some sound of the ani- 
mal he was in pursuit of, was inexpressibly. mournful. 
It was something like the sound of the wind among 
the pines, only more shrill and incisive, and seemed 
to dominate all other sounds in that lonesome spot. 
Here and there tall tamarack-trees rose grimly sky- 
ward, most of them dead and seeming like ghosts of 
what they had once been, and their decaying branches 
gave the scene an additional loneliness, in perfect 
keeping with the sound of the wind among the grass. 
Far as the eye could see, these half- dead trees grew, 
and it seemed as if one had got out of the world in 
which men and women lived and loved and- died, and 

[231] 


m 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


would never find his way back to it through so much 
wilderness, each mile of which was but a repetition of 
the mile preceding it. All was alike in this swamp- 
world to any but trained eyes. 

The hunter, following the faintly defined track of 
the fleeing deer, came suddenly upon a little opening 
in the underbrush through which he had threaded his 
way, and paused for breath again. 

He leaned upon his gun and looked about him as he 
wiped the sweat from his face. He seemed to have 
reached a sort of island in the great sea of swamp. 
The edges of it were fringed with a dense growth of 
white sumach, the exhalations from which will often 
poison one, and which few can touch with impunity. 
Its greenish white berries shone like waxen fruit in the 
slant rays of the sun, contrasting strongly with the 
foliage of a creeper whose leaves had reddened in the 
autumn frost till they looked like great stains of blood. 
In the center of the island stood a huge cedar-tree, 
dead, with one limb stretched out like an arm. Swing- 
ing from that limb was an old rust-eaten chain, and 
dangling from it, caught by the hook on its end, was a 
human skull, grinning, white and ghastly. Beneath 
the skull lay a little heap of bones, bleached white by 
years of rain and snow, and worn into half their 
former size by the work of the elements upon them. 
No weed grew near them. It seemed as if they made 
the spot on which they lay barren and accursed. 

The hunter could not repress a feeling of almost 
superstitious fear at sight of the weird and horrible 
thing before him. 

With the gloom and desolation of dead and dying 
trees behind and all about it, and the sound of the 
wind in the grass making the lonesomeness of the 
scene oppressive, as if the very air was pervaded with 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


233 


a sense of horror and awe, the uncanny object seemed 
to leer at him from the eyeless sockets of the skull, 
and he could fancy that skeleton fingers moved among 
the moldering bones, as if to clasp him in a horrible 
clutch, from which it would be impossible to shake 
himself loose. The scene was like a weird nightmare 
picture in low tones of color, that affect one as minor 
music does, the only relief to its depressing influence 
being the crimson creeper leaves, and these, from their 
lurid suggestion of blood, only seemed to heighten 
and intensify the feeling of awe and terror which the 
solitary spectator felt. 

A sudden fierce wind blew through the trees, mak- 
ing moaning sounds among the naked limbs. It 
caught the dangling skull in its grasp, and swung it to 
and fro as if it were a horrible plaything of fate. A 
raven flew from the stunted top of the old cedar, with 
a hoarse croak that sent a shiver through the man 
who listened. A strange fright took possession of him, 
and, with a cry, he turned and fled from the place. 

It is the story of this swamp skeleton that I am going 
to tell you. 




CHAPTER I. 

SINGING-SCHOOL. 

The Brownsville of fifty years ago was a very differ- 
ent place from the Brownsville of to-day. The name 
suggests a village. There is a kind of villagy sound 
about the “ville.” But in the days of which I write, 
when villages were few and far between on the fron- 
tier, the sound suggestive of a village was the only 
indication of one which you could have found if you 
had hunted the township over in which Brownsville 
was located. There was a little store on one corner of 
the cross-roads, and a little way down the road from 
this general rendezvous for Brownsvillians of the 
sterner sex on rainy days, and at times when there 
“ wasn’t much to do,” there was a school-house, which 
was a church, pro tein.^ whenever a minister came 
along, which was not very often in that early period of 
Brownsville’s existence. 

These two houses, built of logs, formed the nucleus 
of Brownsville. The farms of the settlers were scat- 
tered about through the woods, and as the “ oldest in- 
habitant ” had only a residence of five or six years to fall 
back on in telling the stories which oldest inhabitants 
L234] 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


235 


always have told and always will tell, the residents of 
the place had to admit that it was quite “ new,” as the 
saying- goes in the West, regarding a recently settled 
locality. As the settlement extended several miles in 
each direction from the school-house and store, and 
was all included when Brownsville was spoken of, 
“ going to Brownsville ” was regarded as a rather 
vague statement regarding a person’s destination, by 
people living outside the place, in those primitive days. 

Solomon Boone lived about a mile from the “ village,” 
as the store and school-house were dubbed by general 
consent of all public-spirited citizens living in the 
vicinity. He had the best farm in the settlement, and 
enjoyed the enviable notoriety of owning the best span 
of horses and the prettiest girl in Brownsville. 

Nannie Boone was a very pretty girl, and she knew 
it quite as well as any one. Her face was full of 
healthy color, without being red, and her cheeks were 
fully as bright as the wild roses which grew along 
the path leading to the school-house. Her eyes were 
as keen as black eyes ever are, but they were brown, 
of that peculiar shade which can shift through the 
gamut of the color-scale, sometimes seeming intensely 
dark, and then softening to the tenderness of blue. 
This trick of expression which nature had bestowed 
upon Miss Nannie had the power to make the hearts 
of the young men of Brownsville palpitate about twice 
as fast as usual when she turned her eyes upon them, 
and reinforced her glances with a smile from her full, 
red lips, for a kiss from which almost any of the 
young men would have given a good week’s work. 
From which you will readily infer that the young 
men of the Brownsville of fifty years ago were very 
much the same in their tastes as the young men of the 
Brownsville of to-day. Pretty lips, like Nannie 


236 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


Boone’s, have always had a peculiar witchery and 
charm about them for young men, and sometimes old 
ones, since Adam stole his first kiss in Eden. 

Of course, Nannie had many admirers among the 
young men of the settlement, and plenty of enemies 
among the girls, who knew well enough that, had she 
chosen to do so, she could speedily have brought all 
the backward gallants to her feet, and kept them 
there, thus monopolizing that very necessary element 
to the peace and prosperity of such a place as Browns- 
ville was at that time, where the girls were in the pro- 
portion of two to one Avith the young men. But that 
was before the dawn of monopolies, and Nannie was 
of too thrifty a disposition to keep beaux dawdling 
about her when they might much better be at home 
helping their fathers clear the farms they had staked 
out in the wilderness. 

She was something of a flirt, and liked to make the 
girls jealous and see the young men cast furious glances 
at one another on her account ; but that, I take it, 
is natural for the average girl. She can’t help it. It 
is born in her. All of us exult in a sense of power, 
and why should pretty girls like Nannie Boone not 
find a certain satisfaction in the knowledge that they 
have only to say the word or give the look to have the 
young men fall down and do them homage ? In 
doing this they are only allowing human nature to 
come to the surface, and human nature is about the 
same thing the world over. They mean no harm by 
it, and it is only when a girl allows ambition to trample 
good sense under foot that any real harm is done. 

But Nannie, while smiling upon most of the Browns- 
ville boys, had one sweetest smile which she kept for 
Dick Brayton. 

Dick was a good-looking young fellow, who had come 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


23 ? 


from “ down below ” — which was anywhere forty 
or fifty miles from Brownsville, and had reference to no 
particular place or point of compass — about six months 
before the opening of my story. He was quite unlike 
the young men of Brownsville on his advent among 
them. His hands were white and soft, and his dress 
and general appearance indicated that he had not been 
used to hard work. When interrogated about it, he 
had answered that he had been at work in a store, but, 
getting tired of being housed up, he had determined to 
strike out in search of a new field of labor, and behold 
him at Brownsville looking for a job. 

“ Seems to me it ’s ruther odd fer a feller that 's be’n 
ust to soft work to come up into this region lookin’ fer 
suthin’ to do,” Deacon Snyder had remarked, when 
Brayton appeared upon the scene. “ Most young men 
now’days want as leetle as possible to do.” This with 
sarcastic emphasis and a severe look at his son Ezekiel, 
who had, on several occasions, expressed a desire to 
“ go down below ” and hire out in a store. 

Dick Brayton had seen Nannie first at a meeting in 
the log school-house. He fell in love with her at first 
sight, and the very next day applied to her father for 
work on his farm. 

“ What can you do ?” asked Solomon Boone, as he 
proceeded to fill and light his corn-cob pipe. “Yer 
ban’s don’t look in fust-rate trim fer loggin’, an’ I sh’d 
jedge that yer muscle wa’ n’t jest what ’s needed in 
breakin’ new land.” 

“That ’s so, I suppose,” said Dick in reply. “ I haven’t 
had much practice in hard work, but I can learn to do 
it. I ’m stout and healthy, and it won’t take long to 
toughen me to it. I ’ve got grit to stick to a thing 
when I undertake it. You can pay me what you think 
I earn, at first, and if I improve, you can increase my 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


m 

wages. I leave that to you. Only give me a trial. If 
I don’t come up to requirements, you can turn me off. 
That ’s fair, isn’t it 

“ Yes, that ’s fair enough,” answered Mr. Boone. “ I 
kinder like yer style, an’ I ’ll try ye.” 

So Dick Brayton became Mr. Boone’s “ hired man,” 
and came to live under the same roof with Nannie. 

“ I ’ll bet that ’ll make a match,” Mrs. Snyder said 
to her neighbor, Mrs. Jones, when Dick was installed 
as ^‘hand” on the Boone farm. “Nance, she’s got 
some kinder high notions in her head, an’ this feller ’ll 
make her b’leeve he ’s a leetle better ’n the boys round 
here ; an’ whatever she says, that her folks ’ll say yes 
to, you can be sure on. She jest twists ’em round her 
little finger easy ’s a string. It ’s all Nance says this, 
an’ Nance says that, with both of ’em. They spile 
her. Yes, Mis’ Jones, I ’ll bet anything you ’re a 
mind to, Nance Boone ’ll have that young man. I 
noticed she acted kinder struck after him the fust time 
she see him. Them whiskers round his mouth did it, 
I s’pose. I declare. Mis’ Jones, I do abominate them 
things. Our ’Zekiel, he ’s tryin’ to raise some. He ’s 
took to scrapin’ his upper lip twicet a week, reg’lar, 
but they won’t grow, to speak on. His father, he 
makes him hoppin’ mad advisin’ him to put cream on, 
an’ let the cat lick it off.” 

It seemed, as the summer wore on, that Mrs. 
Snyder’s prophecy was likely to come true. Dick and 
Nannie got along very well together. Up to the time 
in which this story opens, the “ course of true love ” 
had run smoothly enough, but the old saying that it ’s 
a “long lane that has no turning” was to prove as 
true in this case as in many others. 

Nannie taught the school, which lasted six months 
in each year, in the little log-house which I have 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


239 


spoken of as being one of the two buildings at the 
cross-roads. From this you may infer that she was 
what would be called an ‘‘educated young lady,” at 
the present time. She was nothing of the kind. Be- 
fore her father came to Brownsville, she had had the 
advantages of the ordinary district-school only, but 
these she had made the most of, and could write a fair 
hand, with heavy tops to her t’s, and heavier tails to 
her y’s and g’s ; she could spell pretty well, read as 
fast as the next one — and in those days the boy or the 
girl who could read the fastest was considered the best 
reader, as expression was of no account. She could 
“ cipher ” as far into the 'rithmetic as the rule of three, 
and parse all the sentences in the grammar with par- 
rot-like precision, and repeat a good share of the 
geography. What use was there of a more compre- 
hensive education in such a place as Brownsville, 
Nannie’s mother wondered. 

“ ’Twa’ n’t as ef she was out among folks more,” she 
told the town board, when she applied for her daugh- 
ter’s appointment to the position of schoolmistress. 
“ If ’twas where folks knew more, ’twould be diffrunt, 
but Nannie knows enough to teach any o’ the children 
in that part o’ the kentry, an’ I don’t say it to brag up 
my own flesh and blood, neither.” 

As teachers from “ down below ” did not like to come 
into the woods to teach, the school officers decided that 
Nannie was properly qualified to fill the position of 
teacher, and in that way she became a schoolma’am. 

Dick used to keep pretty close watch of the road if 
he was at work anywhere near it when he thought it 
was about four o’clock. Curiously enough, it almost 
always happened that his horses needed a rest when a 
little pink sun-bonnet came in sight at the turn of the 
road. The sight of that sun-bonnet always seemed to 


240 


THE SV/AMP SECRET. 


make Dick thirsty. I can’t explain why, but so it was ; 
so much so that he had to go to a fence-corner near 
the turn in the road, where a cool spring bubbled out 
from under the roots of an old oak. And, strangely 
enough, it almost always happened that the walk from 
the school-house had made Nannie thirsty, too, and she 
was glad to sit down under the shade of the old tree’s 
spreading branches and drink the sweet, refreshing 
draught which Dick tendered her in a cup fashioned 
from a great basswood leaf. What they talked about 
at such times I am not supposed to know. The weather 
and the crops, perhaps. I know this, however, the horses 
got a good long resting-spell on these occasions, and 
Nannie reached home considerably later than she might 
have done if she had not played truant. Her mother 
used to say, quite often : 

“ There is one thing about Nannie’s teachin’ that the 
folks can’t complain of, an’ that is that she alius keeps 
full hours, an’ more, too, fer half the time she don’t get 
home till five or half-past five, and it don’t take more ’n 
fifteen minutes to walk from the school-house up.” 

The worthy woman made this remark at the table 
more than once, and Dick, at such times, would give a 
sly look at Nannie, and she would blush like a newly 
blossomed rose or be seized with such a severe fit of 
coughing that she had to leave the table, when her 
mother would wonder if she had “ swallered her vittels 
the wrong way.” 

On the afternoon of the day on which this story be- 
gins, Dick was plowing near the road. 

When he saw Nannie coming, he hitched his horses 
to a hickory-tree, where they would get the benefit of 
its shade, and went to the road. Leaning over the 
fence, he waited for her, watching her trim-built fig- 
ure with admiring eyes, as she came up the hill. 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


241 


When she came near, he knew by her face that some- 
thing had happened. 

*‘Oh, Dick,” cried Nannie, as she came np to the 
fence, “guess what ’s going to be ! You can't^ I know ; 
but tryr 

“A camp-meeting,” ventured Dick. Camp-meet- 
ings were considered to be the climax of all desirable 
events among the Brownsvillians. 

“ Oh, better 'n that ! ” cried Nannie, with sparkling 
eyes. “ Ever so mach better ! It 's a singing-school I ” 
A singing-school !’ ” Dick caught some of Nan- 
nie’s enthusiasm at once. “ Well, that will be nice, 
won’t it ? I have attended two terms, and we always 
had lots of fun, if we didn’t get much musical benefit. 
But who ’s going to teach it ? Deacon Snyder ?” 

“ Deacon Snyder ! ” exclaimed Nannie, with a scorn- 
ful look of her pretty nose. “ Of course not ! It ’s a 
young man from down below. He ’s going to have a 
meeting at the school-house to-night, to see about or- 
ganizing the school, and he wants everybody to turn 
out. I hope they ’ll have one. Wouldn’t it be nice ? I 
never went to one, you know.” 

“ Of course^ it will be nice,” said Dick, who was 
thinking more of prospective summer-night walks 
with Nannie than he was of the singing-school. 
“ It needs something like that to make the neighbor- 
hood lively. The folks don’t see half enough of each 
other. It ’ll take their mind off their work and rest 
them up a little.” 

“ Yes, that ’s a fact,” responded Nannie, looking, 
however, as if she hardly comprehended what Dick 
had been saying, on account of being busy with other 
thoughts. “ Oh, Dick^ he ’s just the handsomest man 
I ever saw ! He A, Dick, for a fact !” 

“It isn’t always the handsomest ones that turn out 


242 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


to be the best ones,” said Dick, hardly relishing Nan- 
nie’s admiration for the singing-teacher. He 's some 
fellow, most likely, who ’s too lazy to work for a living, 
so he goes round teaching singing-school.” 

‘‘Well,” demanded Nannie, rather sharply, “if he 
teaches singing-school, I ’d like to know if he isn’t 
working and earning his money just as much as you 
are by working on the farm ? I don’t see any differ- 
ence. If he can earn a living without working on a 
farm for it, I don’t see ’s he ’s to blame for it.” 

“ No, nor I,” answered Dick. “ I don’t blame any 
man for getting his living in the easiest possible way, 
if he does it honorably. What I meant was that, per- 
haps, he might be one of those shiftless, good-for- 
nothing fellows who go around sponging their living, 
as the folks say here, and swindling people out of their 
money by getting it under pretense of giving its value, 
when really what they give amounts to nothing. I ’ve 
seen a great many such men. But this fellow may be 
all right. I can’t say he isn’t, of course, but it strikes 
me as rather strange that a singing-teacher, especially 
a young and handsome one, should come to such an 
out-of-the-way place as this is to start a school. It 
certainly can’t be expected that he ’ll get a school 
large enough to pay well, and because he can’t, it 
looks to me as if very likely he don’t amount to 
much,” 

“Well, I don’t know anything about him,” answered 
Nannie, rather stiffly. “ I do know, though, that he ’s a 
real gentleman in looks and appearance.” 

“ Oh, you ’ve seen enough of him to find that out, 
have you ?” queried Dick. “ You must be pretty well 
acquainted, then. Where ’s he going to board ?” 

“ I didn’t ask him, though I had plenty of chance to; 
for/’ added Nannie mischievously, watching the effect 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 




m 


K her words on Dick, who, she knew, W'as eager to 
know how and where she had made the stranger’s ac- 
■uaintance, “ he was at the school-house and stayed 
learly the whole afternoon.” 

Dick made no reply, but he did not look particularly 
taeased over the information. 

jj “ And he gave out notice in school,” went on Nannie, 
r that there ’d be a meeting to-night. The children 
I will tell everybody, and the whole neighborhood — any- 
Ijway, all the young folks — will be sure to be there. I 
(declare it ’s getting real late, by the looks of the sun, 
and I must hurry home and help mother about the 
! supper, for most likely she ’ll want to go, too.” 

I Then Nannie picked up her little splint dinner- 
basket and trudged off up the hill, singing Barbara 
Allen.” 

“She ’s rather struck with the fellow, seems to me,” 
thought Dick, as he went back to his plowing. “ A 
handsome face and good clothes go a long ways in a 
girl’s estimation of a man. They ’re strange things, 
these girls. Gee, there, Dandy, g’lang !” 




CHAPTER II. 

DEACON SNYDER TO THE RESCUE. 

Dick and Nannie walked down to the school-house 
together, after supper, when the “ chores ” had all 
been disposed of. The road led through pleasant 
woods, for the greater part of the way, and there is 
always something to be said by a young man to the 
woman he loves in such a walk as theirs was, that 
makes truants and loiterers of those who can go fast 
enough on ordinary occasions. The school-house was 
quite full when they reached it. 

They entered the building to a smothered chorus of 
giggles and tee-hees from the boys and girls. Why is 
it that one young person invariably makes sport of 
another young person who is, or is supposed to be, in 
love ? I never could satisfy myself why it was so, but 
that it is so is a fact. Your boon companion, your 
bosom friend, will laugh at you mercilessly, if he sus- 
pects that you are a victim of the tender passion. 

The singing-teacher was there, seated in the chair 
Nannie occupied during school hours. He was quite 

[244] 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


U6 


a good-looking fellow, Dick had to admit, with a good 
deal of “ down-below *' style about him. As Deacon 
Snyder told the neighbor on his right : 

“ It 's plain to be seen he ’s come from out among 
folks, but it don’t foller from that that he knows 
all there is about singin’, by no means.” 

The young man’s face was cast in a mold which gave 
him regular features, and to these were added the 
attractive accessories of a pair of bright, keen eyes 
and a fine beard which was carefully kept. He had 
an attractive smile, which showed faultless teeth, and 
the clothes he wore had a style about them very dif- 
ferent from that which characterized the average 
Brownsville garment. You can’t get much “style” 
into a pair of “ overalls ” and a “ wa’mus,” and these 
two articles of apparel, with the addition of a coarse 
cotton or homespun flannel shirt, constituted the garb 
of the young men as well as the old ones in those days 
on the frontier. But as Dick looked at the young man’s 
face keenly, he noticed certain lines about the mouth 
and eyes that he did not like the looks of. He did not 
pretend to be a physiognomist, however, and he might 
be mistaken. It was not always wise to judge a man 
by his face, and most men’s faces told more about their 
owner than this one’s did. To Dick it seemed as if he 
wore a mask, but through it he could catch, now and 
then, a glimpse of that which it was worn to conceal. 

“ He may be all right,” thought Dick, “but I believe 
he ’ll bear watching.” 

As Nannie tiptoed to a seat among the girls — for in 
those days the two sexes never sat together in any kind 
of meeting — the singing teacher smiled and gave her a 
genteel bow. This act gave Nannie a certain distinc- 
tion among the other girls, and pleased her so much 
that she became radiant all in a moment. Dick saw 


246 


TttE SWAMP SECRET. 


the effect it had on her, and shut his teeth hard to- 
gether. In some way he felt that there was to be 
trouble between him and the singing-teacher. Other 
young men saw the bow and the smile which the 
stranger bestowed on Nannie and the look with which 
she responded, and nudged one another, with a sly look 
at Dick. All of which, of course, had a tendency to 
make him feel as serene as a May morning. 

The whole settlement — meaning by that everybody 
living within two or three miles of the school-house — 
had turned out on this momentous occasion. The ages 
of the audience ranged from three months to seventy 
years. 

“ I presume that all who are likely to take part in 
the singing-school, if organized, are here,” the young 
man said, as he rose and made a graceful, easy little 
bow to his audience, and walked out in front of the 
rude desk. Instantly deep silence reigned. The noisy 
whispers of the women were broken off in the middle 
of the sentence, and the men ceased their louder but 
less pervading talk. The young men turned their 
eyes from the girls to the speaker, and the young girls 
forgot all about the existence of the young men, for 
the time. 

“ My name is Maxfield Wayne,” he .said, as he be- 
came sure of the attention of his audience. “ I have 
been spending the summer, so far, in this State, partly 
for pleasure, partly for profit.” Here a little smile was 
noticed to curl the corners of his mouth. None of his 
audience understood what there was in the words he 
had just spoken or the thoughts they suggested that 
prompted the smile, but remembered in later days, 
and, viewed in the light of after-events, they knew 
what he was thinking of when this remark was made. 

I have come here partly out of curiosity to see life in 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


247 


the backwoods, partly because I thought I could pick 
up allying here for a little while as well as elsewhere.” 
Again that peculiar smile, as if, to him, the words had 
a hidden meaning. “ I would like to employ the time 
I spend among you in some profitable way. I have 
taught singing-school, and thought perhaps you might 
like to have a school here for a few weeks. I shall be 
glad to hear from anyone on the subject.” 

“ Deacon Snyder !” called out some one in the 
audience. 

Instantly calls for the deacon resounded from all 
parts of the house. 

The deacon, having been a singing-teacher of the 
primitive type “ down East,” was considered standard 
authority on musical matters. He rose and said in a 
wheezy voice that was something like the tone of an 
asthmatic accordion, that he had “led the singin’, off 'n 
on, ever since he ’d been in Brownsville, an’ afore, 
in other parts o’ the kentry, an’ he felt free to say 
that the Brownsville young people had as good voices 
as you’d be apt to find in any place of its size, but, 
like other fakilties of the human bein’, they needed 
cultivatin’. Fer his part he was not only in favor of 
school, though he didn’t know as it would of much 
benefit to him^ but, the. Lord willin’, he ’d do what he 
could to help it along, for he considered singin’ a means 
o’ glorifyin’ God, an’ our talons hadn’t ought to be left 
to rust an’ corrupt.” 

Then with a flourish of his red bandanna and a blast 
on his Roman nose like the sound of a war-trumpet, he 
sat down, conscious that his remarks had preserved his 
reputation as a very ready and forcible off-hand speaker 
on all public occasions. 

“ I motion that a couple o’ young men go ’round an’ 
see how many air willin’ to take holt an’ do suthin’ 


248 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


an’ how much they ’ll give to’rds s’portin’ a school,’* 
said the deacon’s neighbor, after a little consultation 
with him. 

This suggestion seemed to meet with unanimous 
favor, and two young men were appointed to canvass 
the audience for subscribers to a singing-school fund. 
The result was that a sufficient amount was pledged 
to make the school a certainty. 

“ Let it be understood, then,” announced Mr. Wayne, 
“ that the term will begin to-morrow evening at seven 
o’clock, and that there will be a session every other 
evening, Sunday excepted, till the completion of the 
term.” 

Nannie lingered with a group of *girls near the desk 
where the singing-teacher stood, talking with some of 
the young men, casting sidelong glances at him, and 
wishing he would come and speak to her ; but he was too 
busily engaged, and she had to be satisfied with a 
smile and a nod. Dick came up and asked her if she 
was ready to go home, and she took his arm, and they 
left the school-house. 

She was not inclined to talk about such matters as 
seemed to interest Dick most, but waxed eloquent over 
the singing-school and its handsome teacher. Dick, 
of course, did not take a great deal of interest in such 
conversation, but tried to put on a smiling face, and 
not let her see how jealous he was beginning to be. 
Of course, he failed in the attempt. Nannie had keen 
eyes and was a woman, and she saw that it nettled him 
to have to listen to her praises of Mr. Wayne, therefore 
she kept on talking about him, thus securing the double 
satisfaction of expressing her really honest admiration 
of the stranger, and making Dick as uncomfortable as 
possible. 

“ I don’t like the looks of him,” Dick said, as he got 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


249 


ready for bed. “ He looks to me like a man who ’s de- 
termined to have his own way, right or wrong, and 
rather than not have it, if he once makes up his mind 
to it, he ’ll do anything mean or underhand to carry 
out his plan.” 



CHAPTER III. 


CUT OUT. 

The farm adjoining Mr. Boone’s on the south be- 
longed to Mr. Porter. Mrs. Porter was Mrs. Boone’s 
sister. Mr. Porter had built near the north edge of 
his claim, and Mr. Boone near the southern boundary 
of his, so that the two houses were quite near together. 
On the afternoon following the organization of the 
singing-school, Nannie stopped at her aunt’s on her 
way home, with a beaming and excited face. 

“ You can’t guess what kind of an errand I ’ve come 
on,” she said, sitting down in the doorway and fanning 
her flushed face with her sun-bonnet, utterly unmind- 
ful of poor Dick, who was plowing in the field across 
the road, and who had stepped close to the fence when 
he saw her coming. 

“ Wall, no, I can’t say as I can, not bein’ very good at 
guessin’,” replied Mrs. Porter, drawing her old-fash- 

[250] 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


251 


ioned rocking-chair np to the door. “ Is it an arrant 
for our folks ?” 

“ It ’s one for you,” answered Nannie ; “ Mr. Wayne 
wants to come here to board.” 

“ Fer goodness’ sake !” exclaimed Mrs. Porter. 
“ What on airth ’u’d we do with him if we took him, 
I ’d like .to know ? We don’t go in fer style, an’ ain’t us’t 
to livin’ as he ’d expect to ; an’ then, s’posen it was all 
right, an’ father was willin’, I don’t know what Sa- 
manthy ’d say.” 

“ Oh, you ’d get along with him well enough,” said 
Nannie, confidently. “ I know you would. He wanted 
to come to our house, but I knew we couldn’t make 
room for him. I knew you could, and I knew, too, 
that he couldn’t find a neater place ; and as you 
had only Uncle Porter and the hired man, with Sa- 
manthy to help you with the work, I thought you could 
take him without putting yourself out much. I prom- 
ised to see about it and let him know to-night, at sing- 
ing-school.” 

I don’t know as I have any pertikler objections, ef 
father hain’t,” said Mrs. Porter, after thinking the 
matter over. What do you say, Samanthy ?” 

Samanthy was Mrs. Porter’s cousin, and acted in the 
threefold capacity of hired girl, companion and house- 
hold dictator. She was “smart as a steel trap an’ 
awful capable,” Mrs. Porter told her neighbors, “ an’ 
takes right holt an’ goes ahead with things as well as/ 
could. She us't to make us all stan’ round,” Mrs. Por- 
ter was wont to affirm, years after Samanthy had left 
her, “ but we was us’t to her ways an’ didn’t mind her 
bossin’ us, she was so handy an’ willin’. There wa’ n’t 
a single lazy hair in her head, an’ we never had nobody 
work fer us that begun to earn her wages as Samanthy 
Peters did— never \” 


252 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


“ What do I think about what ?” asked Samanthy^ 
coming in from the back-room and leaning on her 
broom, prepared to listen and advise or object, as the 
case might be. 

“The singin’-school man wants to come here to 
board,” explained Mrs. Porter. “ What do you hev to 
say about it ?” 

“ ’T ain’t fer me to say anything as I know on,” said 
Sam an thy, in reply. “ I s’pose there ’s plenty of room 
fer him, an’ we can git along ’ith the work well enough ; 
but I 'm free to say I didn’t take much of a fancy to 
him, and wouldn’t keer to hev him ’round more’n six 
months to a time. But mebbe we can stan’ it while 
he ’s teachin’, an’ you can turn my bill to singin’-school 
on his board, ef it ’s any accommodation.” 

Samanthy’s consent being obtained, Mrs. Porter 
went out in the garden, where “ father ” was at work, 
and held a short consultation with him. The result of 
this conference was a foregone conclusion, however, 
as “father” always deferred to his wife’s judgment 
and wishes. 

“ You can tell him that he can come, then,” said Mrs, 
Porter, when she came back to the house. “ That is, 
ef he feels as ef he could put up with our way o’ 
livin’.” 

“Oh, I know he won’t mind that,” said Nannie, de- 
lighted with her success. Then she put on her sun- 
bonnet and ran home, never stopping for a word with 
Dick, who had been leaning on the fence, waiting 
patiently for the conference with Mrs. Porter to end. 

“ I wonder what ’s the matter now ?” he thought, as 
he saw Nannie come out of the gate and walk straight 
down the road toward home without so much as look- 
ing in his direction. “ Something about the singing- 
school, I suppose, or its teacher,” he ^dded, with 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


253 


IjMrling lip. “It ’s strange how girls will act, all on 
liififit^unt of a handsome face and smooth ways.” 
i From which remark you will understand that Dick 
I was beginning to get jealous of Mr. Wayne. 

“ Won’t it be nice ?” Nannie said to her mother, when 
Phe got home and told, the news. “ He ’ll be so near 
'that I can run over real often to have him show me 
jabout anything that bothers me. I mean to practice 
all the spare time I get, and get ahead of all the other 
girls. I know I shall like him ever so much.” 

When Dick came to supper, Mrs. Boone told him 
about Mrs. Porter’s new boarder. Nannie, for some 
reason, didn’t come into the kitchen as she usually did 
when he washed his face and combed his hair. 

“Coming to Mrs. Porter’s, is he ? Well, I can’t say 
as I care a great deal about having him for such a 
near neighbor. Samanthy and I didn’t take much of 
a fancy to him.” 

Dick looked at Nannie as he said this, but she pre- 
tended not to hear. Dick knew that she did hear it, 
for all that, for her cheeks got a trifle redder, and she 
gave her head a little toss that told that she was not 
greatly pleased with the remark. 

“ I s’pose we ’ll be favored with whole slathers o' 
music, afore long,” said Mr. Boone, as they sat down .to 
supper. “ This gal here,” pinching Nannie’s plump 
cheek, “ thinks she ’ll have the whole grammit, or what- 
ever you call it, at her tongue’s end in less’n a 
week.” 

“ Well, it will be a first-rate chance for me to learn,” 
said Nannie, as she passed the butter to Dick. “ He ’ll 
be so near, you know. I can run over to Aunt Porter’s 
and ask him lots of questions when I come to something 
I don’t just understand.” 

“ Too near,” Dick thought, but he said nothing. 


254 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


They walked down to the school-house together that 
night, but the conversation between them was not 
what could be called a very lively one. If Nannie 
talked of anything, it had to be either the singing- 
school or its teacher, and Dick could not wax very en- 
thusiastic on such topics, therefore he preferred to 
keep still and let her do the talking. 

Promptly at seven o’clock the session began. Any 
one who has ever attended singing-school in the country 
knows what the usual routine of work is : An explana- 
tion of the scale, with its letters, its flats and sharps, and 
ever-changing keys, its do-re-me’s and fa-so-la’s, and 
then, for the beginner’s benefit, little easy exercises 
which are to the study of harmony what the primer is 
to the reading-book with the student in the district- 
school. Every teacher of music begins with these 
a-b-c’s of the science, but not one in a dozen suc- 
ceeds in making his scholars understand much about 
them. The “ fun ” comes in when they get to sing- 
ing “ pieces.” Most of the students can catch the 
tune from hearing it sung by the teacher, and singing 
real tunes is much more satisfactory to the scholar 
than drilling on dry exercises. This school was like 
all others in this respect. After the rudiments had 
been dwelt upon for an hour, Mr. Wayne said they would 
practice a little on some old tunes for recreation and 
variety. Had any one any choice of a tune ? 

Deacon Snyder called for Windham,” adding, as a 
sort of postscript : “ That is, if the teacher is familiar 
with it.” 

Yes, Mr. Wayne was quite familiar with that tune. 
They would try it. And soon the audience was mak- 
ing the air doleful with the mournful strains of the 
tune the deacon had selected. 

“ A little more expression would improve it, I think,” 


THt: SWAMP SECRET. 


255 


said Mr, W ayne. “ Let me sing a verse as I think it 
ought to be sung.” 

He did so amid the profound silence of the class. He 
had a smooth, clear voice, and he sang well and with 
due regard for the sentiment of the words. The old 
hymn took on a new meaning under his rendering of 
it. The girls were delighted with his way of singing 
it, and the young men wished they could sing like 
that ; but Deacon Snyder, whose musical education 
was as primitive as the cut of his pantaloons, and who 
was not inclined to be progressive in his ideas, hardly 
agreed with Mr. Wayne’s opinion of how the hymn 
ought to be sung. 

“ I don’t fancy quite so many flourishes,” he said to 
Sister Smith, with a deprecating shake of his head. 
“ ’T ain’t the way they us’t to do it, an’ I reckon they 
sung as much fer the honor an' glory o’ God then as 
they do now’days. But I s’pose it 's the fash’n to sing 
it in this way out among folks. Even religi’n is gettin’ 
to havin’ fash’nable quirks to it, I ’m sorry to say. I 
go in fer good ^»/^-fash’ned singin’ that h ain’t got 
none o’ the pomps an’ vanities o’ the world mixed up 
with it.” 

“ The deacon he ’s alius a-findin’ fault with anything 
that don’t jest agree with what he was brought up to,” 
said Samanthy, between whom and the deacon a long- 
standing grudge existed. “ He ’d find fault with the 
Angel Gabr’el ef he was to come an’ blow his trump 
diff’runt from the way ol’ Mis’ Snyder blows her din- 
ner-horn.” 

After school was dismissed, Dick took his station by 
the door to wait for Nannie. ’The boys generally 
ranged themselves in a row, waiting for the girls to 
straggle along, trying to look unconscious of the pres- 
ence of the gallants, who were always conscious of 


S56 


I'HE SWAMP SECP-ET. 


being the observed of all observers. Pretty soon the 
girls began to edge their way toward the door, whis- 
pering to one -another and giggling in the way common 
to girls when there is nothing to giggle about, and pre- 
tending to look as if “beaus” and “ comp’ny home ” 
were the very last things they were likely to think of. 

Nannie, however, loitered behind- the other girls, 
apparently busy over a proper arrangement of some 
portion of her apparel. 

“ Aren’t you about ready ?” asked Dick. 

“Almost,*^ answered Nannie; “but I ’ve got to 
speak to the teacher first.” 

Then she walked over to the place where Mr. Wayne 
was standing, with the information that Mrs. Porter 
would take him to board while he remained in Browns- 
ville. 

“Thank you very much for your trouble in the 
matter,” said Mr. Wayne, with a smile that set foolish 
Nannie’s heart to fluttering. “ I think I ’ll go there 
to-night, if you ’ll be kind enough to take charge of 
me and show me the way. It ’s on your road home, I 
think ?” 

“Yes, we go right by there,” said Nannie, with a 
sidelong glance at Dick. 

Then the singing-teacher said something to Nannie, 
which Dick could not hear, because it was said in a 
rather low tone. But he saw the girl’s face color up 
like a rose, in pleased surprise, saw her look toward 
him again, with a little air of hesitation, and then saw 
Wayne take it upon himself to decide the matter for 
her by drawing her hand within his arm, with an air 
of ownership and authority which stung him to fierce 
anger. They stood thus for a minute or two, while 
Wayne answered some question, then they made their 
way to the door and went out, laughing and chatting. 






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THE SWAMP SECRET. 


257 


and Nannie, as she passed Dick, seemed perfectly un- 
conscious of his existence. 

“ There, you We got the slip t/izs time,” laughed 
Lucindy Smith — ’Cindy, for short. “ I wouldn’t let 
him cut me out in that way ’thout showin’ ’em that I 
could do jest as well summer’s else. / 'd be as inde- 
pendent as she is,” with an insinuating smile, which, 
however, made but little impression on Dick. 

“ I snum, but that was done purty slick, or I ain’t no 
jedge o’ horned cattle,” laughed Bill Green, close to 
Dick’s elbow. Bill was an old admirer of Nannie’s, 
and had a grudge against Dick for “ cutting him out ” 
there. In consequence of this bad feeling on his part, 
which had settled into a bitter enmity of the dogged 
kind, which is always ready to avail itself of any 
opportunity for revenge, he enjoyed Dick’s evident 
discomfiture with keen relish. 

Dick was too busy with his own hard thoughts to 
pay any attention to the remark, and started off home 
through the woods, not being in the mood for com- 
pany. 

When he came in sight of Mr. Boone’s an hour 
later, he saw Nannie and the singing-teacher standing 
at the gate together. 

Rather than pass them he made a detour around the 
house, in . the shadow of the woods, and reached his 
room by climbing over the kitchen roof. Just as he 
was ready to step into bed he looked out and saw that 
they were still standing there. 

“ I do think, Nannie Boone, that you ought to be 
ashamed of yourself,” he said, with one wrathful glance 
at the girl who had jilted him. “ If you think 1 ’m the 
kind of a fellow that can be twisted ’round your finger, 
you ’re greatly mistaken, as you ’ll find out. I don’t 
play second-fiddle. If you prefer the singing-teacher 


258 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


to me, it 's all right — that 's your privilege — but you 
can’t throw me by one day and pick me up the next.” 

He lay awake a long time that night, thinking over 
Nannie’s treatment of him. He resented it bitterly, 
because he cared so much for the girl, and had been 
sure that his regard for her was returned. 

“That fellow’s got to keep out of my path,” he said, 
the last thing before he went to sleep. “ If he thinks 
he ’s going to boss me ’round he '11 find that he ’e got 
hold of the wrong man. If he isn’t a rascal I miss my 
guess, and I ’ll prove him to be one yet.” 




CHAPTER IV. 

A PROPOSAL AND A REFUSAL. 

Nannie and Dick had but little to say to each other 
next morning. He went off to work with a scowl on 
his face, for the more he thought of Nannie’s conduct 
the worse he thought she had used him. 

If I had done anything to give her the least ex- 
cuse for such treatment," he said to himself, “ I wouldn’t 
blame her at all. Of course, she had a perfect right to 
go with him or any one else, if she hadn’t given me to 
understand as plainly as it ’s necessary to understand 
anything that she ’d marry me, some day. She knows 
what my attentions have meant, and she knows, too, 
that I consider her the same as engaged to me. Under 
the circumstances she had no right to treat me in this 
way, and I have a right to object to it." 

About eight o’clock he saw Nannie and Mr, Wayne 
going down the road toward the school-house, together. 
Wayne was carrying her dinner-basket and evidently 
making himself agreeable, for Nannie was laughing. 
The sound of her laughter made Dick look positively 
ferocious. 

l2S9] 


260 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


‘‘ Never mind !” cried Dick, in a sepulchral tone, 
with a tragic flourish of his clinched fist in the direc- 
tion of the two who seemed to be so absorbed in their 
conversation that they had forgotten the existence of 
any one else. “ I ’ll get even with you yet, sir, see if I 
don’t !” Then he added : “And with you, too, Nannie 
Boone !” 

Thereupon he made up his mind, as a preparatory 
step toward “getting even” with her, to straight- 
way forget all the tender thoughts he had had concern- 
ing her, and let her go her way and he would go his. 
He began by telling himself that he did not care half 
as much for her as he thought he did. But he couldn’t 
convince himself of that, for he knew well enough that 
he had never cared so much for any other girl, and 
the probabilities were that he would never care so 
much for any he might meet in time to come. In 
spite of all his efforts to the contrary, he grew miser- 
able, and Nannie could not help seeing it as the days 
went by. 

Dick did not take the interest in the singing-school 
that he thought he was going to when it was organized. 
But he did not feel like staying away and letting 
Wayne and the boys and girls laugh at him, so he at- 
tended quite regularly, and once or twice, just to let 
Nannie see that he didn’t take her conduct so very 
deeply to heart, he went home with Rhoda Stevens, 
who had been the only rival Nannie had ever had in 
Dick’s regards. Rhoda was a pretty girl, and had it 
not been for Nannie she would have been the belle of 
Brownsville. 

At first Dick blamed the singing-teacher most for the 
trouble between him and Nannie ; but when he came 
to think it over, he felt that Nannie was most to blame. 
It was quite natural for any young man to do as Wayne 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


261 


had done. K Nannie had not encouraged him, he 
would doubtless have kept in what Dick considered his 
proper place. The singing-teacher made long visits at 
Mr. Boone’s, and he and Nannie sang together until 
Dick was obliged to shut his teeth hard together to 
keep back bitter words that struggled up for utterance. 
He wished he could shut the sound of their voices out 
of his ears. The truth was he could not get over his 
passion for Nannie as easily as he had hoped he might. 
He loved her too well for that. 

On the second Saturday of his stay in Brownsville, 
Mr. Wayne borrowed one of Mr. Boone’s horses and 
“ went below ” on business. What that particular 
business was he did not take the trouble to explain. 

That evening Mr. and Mrs. Boone went over to Mr. 
Porter’s, and Dick and Nannie were left alone to- 
gether. 

Dick’s heart had been growing tender toward Nannie 
from the moment he had seen Wayne riding away. 
Sometimes he had thought that maybe she was flirting 
with the singing- teacher to try him. It might be that 
she blamed him for not having spoken out about his 
intentions in plain terms, and took this way of bringing 
him to a definite declaration of what he meant. It was 
quite possible, after all, that she did not care two straws 
for Wayne. Dick took courage at the thought, and he 
resolved to improve the present opportunity to come to 
some understanding on the subject. 

Nannie had the week’s ironing to do that evening, 
and Dick found her at work in the kitchen when he 
came in from the barn. 

He sat down and watched her as she shook out the 
garments piled up in the clothes-basket and sprinkled 
them. She looked toward him once, and caught his 
eyes, and a quick flush overspread her cheeks ; then 


262 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


she turned away and began singing one of the new 
tunes they had learned at singing-school. 

“ Nannie,” blurted out Dick, all at once, you don’t 
seem like the girl you were a month ago.” 

“ I want to know if you think so !” exclaimed Nan- 
nie, with a defiant toss of her head. She had felt what 
was coming, and dreaded it, for she knew that she had 
been to blame. “ I wasn’t aware that I had ‘ met with 
a change,’ as Deacon Snyder says.” 

“You know what I mean, well enough,” said Dick, 
hitching his chair nearer the table where Nannie was 
standing. “ Since — since that Wayne came you seem 
to have forgotten that there is such a fellow as Dick 
Bray ton. Why, Nannie, you hardly speak to me, 
nowadays.” 

“Just hear that!” cried Nannie, to some invisible 
person. “ Hardly speak to you, indeed ! I ’m sure 
I’ve spoken to you as often as you have spoken to 
mey 

“Well, yes, that may be,” admitted Dick. “But, 
you see, Nannie, I didn’t feel like talking, when I 
didn’t know as you wanted me to talk to you. It 
seemed as if you ’d rather listen to Mr. Wayne.” 

“ It seems that you ’re kind of jealous of Mr. Wayne,” 
said Nannie, folding the towel she was ironing with 
slow and elaborate precision, as if all her energies 
were concentrated on doing that one thing. 

“ Well, that may be,” said Dick. “ Granting that it 
is so, Nannie, haven’t I a right to be ?” 

“ Not that I know of,” answered Nannie. 

“ Before he came I supposed it was understood be- 
tween us that we were to be married, some time,” said 
Dick. 

“Persons haven’t any right to take it for granted 
that anything'll understood,” responded Nannie, tartly. 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


263 


“ You never asked me to marry you, that I remember 
of.” 

“ Perhaps I was wrong in not saying in so many 
words what it seemed to me you understood well 
enough,” answered Dick. “ It seemed hardly necessary. 
However, it isn’t too late to ask the question now, is 
it, Nannie ?” 

“ I don’t know what you ’re hinting at,” said Nan- 
nie, beginning to hum a tune, and concentrating her 
attention on the ruffles of a pillow-case. 

“Just this,” said Dick. “That I love you, and want 
you to marry me. Will you ?” 

“Why, Dick, how abrupt you are!” exclaimed Nan- 
nie. “ I don’t want to marry you — or any one else — 
yet awhile.” 

“ Don’t keep a fellow waiting to know the worst or 
the best,” said Dick, impatiently. “ Is it yes or no, 
Nannie ?” 

“ I — I like you pretty well,” answered Nannie, “but 
I don’t want to settle down to washing dishes and 
sweeping floors and cooking things to eat three times 
a day, and nothing else from morning till night, for a 
long time yet. I want to see a little of the world. I 
am going to coax father to let me go to school this 
winter. I don’t much think I ’d like housekeeping, 
anyway ; and if it ’s a housekeeper you ’re wanting, 
I think you can find one that will answer the purpose 
a good deal better than I would. There ’s Lucindy 
Smith—” 

“ Hang Lucindy Smith !” exclaimed Dick, beginning 
to lose his temper. “ Yes or no, Nannie ?” 

“ Wi?, then,” answered Nannie, her temper rising in 
opposition to Dick’s. 

“ That 's the way to talk,” cried Dick. “ Say what 
you mean, square out, and don’t waste words beating 


264 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


about the bush, even if it does hurt a fellow a little to 
hear it.” 

He got up, took his hat down from its peg by the 
door and went out, 

“ I — I hope you don’t blame me, Dick,” said Nannie, 
following him to the door, feeling as if she would like 
to cry, and, at the same time, partly angry. 

“Yes, I do,” answered Dick. “I have reason to, 
too, and you know it as well as I do. But we won’t 
talk about it. It ’s over and done with.” 

Then he turned and walked down the path, and it 
was late at night before he came back and went to 
bed. 

“What queer things men are !” Nannie said to her- 
self, as she cried herself to sleep. “ I know I didn’t 
do just right ; but he needn’t have been so jealous, 
and he needn’t have been so foolish as to think a girl 
means everything she says.” 





CHAPTER V. 

THE RIVALS COME TO BLOWS. 

A week went by. 

At the end of that time Nannie had come to the con- 
clusion, from Dick’s actions, that he considered every- 
thing at an end between them, as he had said. He 
spoke to her pleasantly enough, when he spoke at all. 
He did not seem to try to avoid her, but there was a 
sense of distance between them which made her feel 
that he was more like a stranger than the Dick Brayton 
she had known. That Dick was gone. This one was 
like him, and reminded her of him in many ways, but 
she missed the Dick of two weeks ago. 

Considering her unqualified refusal of his heart and 
hand, it was rather singular that she should be indig- 
nant at him for not seeming to grieve over her rejec- 
tion more. She felt that he ought to show great 
disappointment and become despondent ; and because 
he did not, she felt personally aggrieved. He had 
altogether too good an appetite for a rejected lover, and 
he didn’t seem inclined to withdraw from society, as it 
seemed to her he ought to under the circumstances. 
She began to think that he hadn’t cared as much for 
her as she had thought he did, and felt offended be- 
cause of it. He seemed to take a real pleasure in talk- 

[265] 


266 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


ing with Rhoda Stevens, at singing-school, and he 
went home with her twice a week. Why this should 
have worried Nannie, since she had refused to receive 
his attentions, I cannot explain ; but it did. She really 
felt as if she hated Rhoda and never wanted to speak 
to her again. 

** It looks as if both on ’em was a-playin' at the same 
game,” she heard Mrs. Corbett say to Mrs. Smith, one 
night at singing-school, an' I kinder surmise Dick’s 
got the start of her. ’T ain’t anyways likely as Mr. 
Wayne ’ll marry her, an’ ’twouldn’t be at all s'prisin’ if 
Dick did marry Rhody, fer he ’s alius had a kind o’ 
likin’ fer her. Wall, if Nance loses him, she ’ll hev 
nobody to blame but herself, fer Dick ’u’d hev stuck 
by her if she hadn’t played off on him, to begin with.’’ 

On Sunday evening Uncle Josiah Watkins came in 
to spend an hour or two at Mr. Boone’s hospitable 
hearth. Uncle Josi was everybody’s relative. You 
will always find these uncles and aunts in all country 
places. He was one of those men who always know 
what is going on from one end of the neighborhood to 
the other, and it was his particular delight to keep 
everybody well posted as to what was taking place. 
He was to Brownsville what the daily mail is to us of 
to-day, and as everybody liked the old man, he was 
always sure of a welcome wherever he went. 

“Try some o’ this terbacker,” said Mr. Boone, taking 
down a big brown-paper parcel from a shelf over the 
cellar-door. “Got it from down below this week. 
It ’s better ’n that Jones sells. It ’s stronger and more 
satisfyin’.” 

Uncle Josi produced a corn-cob pipe and filled it 
leisurely. He was never in a hurry about anything 
when he had something to tell. When he had filled 
the pipe, he raked a coal out of the ashes and de- 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


267 


posited it on the tobacco. After a few vigorous 
“ draws,” the tobacco ignited, and as a blue cloud of 
pungent smoke curled about his head, he leaned well 
back in his chair and prepared to take his ease and re- 
tail his stock of news. 

“ I heerd from my son Philander last week,” he said 
by and by, after all the neighborhood happenings had 
been discussed. “ My son Philander,” he explained to 
Mr. Wayne, who had also “ dropped in ” to spend the 
evening, “ he lives at Catfish Corners, twenty-five 
miles off, I reckon, an’ mebbe more. Do you know 
jest how fur ’t is, Solomon ?” 

“ No, I don’t, jest,” answered Mr. Boone ; “ but I 
sh’d reckon ’t was as much as twenty-five miles, if not 
furder. It ’s a right smart ways, anyhow. Leastwise 
it seemed so to me las’ spring when I druv home from 
there through the mud jest as ’twas breakin’ up.” 

“Wall, ’t aint twenty-five, anyway,” said Uncle 
Josi, looking at the fire, as if he wished it would tell 
him the exact distance. “ But, as I was sayin’, I heerd 
from Philander, an’ he writ that they ’d lost every boss 
as was wuth anything in the whole neighborhood.” 

“ You don’t say so !” exclaimed Mr. Boone, greatly 
interested at once. “ Hoss distemper or glanders ?” 

“Wuss’n that,” answered Uncle Josi, mysteriously. 
“Wuss’n that, Solomon.” 

“ Ef there ’s anything wuss ’n hoss distemper I d like 
to know what ’t is,” said Mr. Boone. 

“ Hoss-thieves ailed ’em,” announced Uncle Josi, with 
a very impressive nod of his head and speaking slowly, 
that they might fully understand the magnitude of his 
information, “ Ef hoss-thieves ain’t wuss ’n hoss dis- 
temper, I allow I don’t know what is.” 

“ ‘ Hoss-thieves !’ ” Mr. Boone repeated the words, 
as if he could hardly credit the statement, and as if 


268 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


there was an ominous foreboding of danger to Browns- 
ville in it. In those days nothing could excite a fron- 
tier settlement like the report of depredations by 
horse-thieves. “ Why, I hain't heerd anything o’ hoss- 
stealin’ fer a long time — not since the fust year I come 
here.” 

“ No, I know we hain’t heerd on ’em in this part o’ 
the ken try,” answered Uncle Josi. “ Fust they was 
over in the east part o’ the State, and then in the south- 
east, an’ so on round. It ’s my opinion that all the 
bosses that ’s been stole’ have ben picked up by the 
same gang that ’s kep’ a-movin’ ’round the kentry from 
one place to another when it got too hot fer ’em, an’ 
now they ’ve got to the place where my son Philander 
lives. They ’ll be here fust thing ye know.” 

“ I ’d hate awfully to lose Doll an’ Nell,” said Mr. 
Boone, as he refilled his pipe thoughtfully. ** I would 
so.” 

Nell and Doll were probably worth more than any 
other four horses in Brownsville. 

“ I jest wish we could git hold o’ the tarnal thieves,’* 
said Uncle Josi. “ They’d be purty apt to hev justice 
done ’em, if we could, I reckon. Blast their picters, I 
hain’t no kind o’ patience with ’em ! Thieves is bad 
enough, but hoss-thieves is the wust kind o’ the whole 
lot.” 

“ I allow you ’re right,” responded Mr. Boone, with 
several emphatic nods of his head. “ Yes, sirree ; 
they ’d be purty likely to hev justice done ’em if we 
could jest git our ban’s on ’em once.” 

“What would the justice you refer to consist in ?” 
asked Wayne, who had seemed to be a careless and in- 
different listener to the conversation. 

“A rope,” answered Uncle Josi, sententiously, with 
a tap of his crooked forefinger against his neck, to in- 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


269 


dicate where the application of the remedy would be 
made. 

** Seems awful to think o’ hangin’ ’em,” said Mrs. 
Boone with a shudder. 

“Good enough fer ’em,” said Uncle Josi, warmly. 
“ Good enough fer ’em, I say. I hain’t no pity to waste 
on hoss-thieves. Not a mite! Not a mite 1 Wouldn’t 
lift a finger to save ’em from hangin’ ef I knew I could 
save ’em. That ’s what 1 think about ’em. Other 
folks can think as they see fit, but I say hang ’em jest 
as fast as you ketch ’em.” 

“‘First catch your hare,’” laughed Wayne, quoting 
from an old recipe in somebody’s cook-book. 

Dick had been listening to the conversation without 
taking part in it. Wayne happened to look at him 
and saw that his rival was watching him intently. 

“What ’s j/our opinion ?” he asked, with a half-inso- 
lent smile. 

“ If you were a horse-thief I ’d show you,” answered 
Dick, curtly. He cared to have nothing to say to the 
singing-teacher. He was irritated by his presence in 
the room. To be spoken to by him roused a quick anger 
in him, which would not be kept down. 

A hot color flamed into Wayne’s face for a moment. 
He liked Dick no better than Dick liked him, and the 
other’s reply stung him into quick resentment, for 
some reason. But he seemed to think it not advisable 
to bandy words at that time and place, and he made 
no response. 

Presently Dick got up and went out. He was lean- 
ing over the gate, whistling a fragment of the dolor- 
ous tune of “ Barbara Allen,” when Wayne came 
sauntering down the path, perhaps half an hour later. 

“ If you ’ll be so kind as to get out of the way, I ’ll 
go through that gate,” he said imperiously. 


270 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


Dick pretended not to hear him. 

“ Did you hear me ?” demanded Wayne, angrily. 

“Did you say anything?” asked Dick, coolly, with- 
out offering to move. He was aching for a quarrel 
with Wayne, and it seemed as if one was near at hand. 
The hitherto repressed dislike of each for the other 
was ready to culminate in an angry outbreak, now 
that the opportunity was favorable. 

“Yes, sir; I did speak to you,” answered Wayne, 
haughtily. “ Stand aside and let me pass.” 

“ You can climb over,” said Dick, with most pro- 
voking coolness. 

“ I don’t choose to,” responded Wayne, hotly. 

“ Well, then, go around or crawl through the fence, 
if you like that better,” said Dick. 

“I shall go through that gate,” said Wayne. “I 
don’t want any of your insolence. I know why you 
feel so sore, and I can’t say that I wonder at it.” 

“ If you don’t keep a civil tongue in your head, 'll 
be likely to feel sore !” cried Dick, facing about. “ Do 
you know what you ’re saying ?” 

“ Perfectly well,” answered Wayne, defiantly. “ When 
a girl gives a fellow the mitten, I suppose it does cut 
him a good deal. You have had the experience, lately. 
How is it ?” 

He accompanied the words with a low, sneering 
laugh to which his anger gave a grating edge. 

“See here,” cried Dick, with a dangerous fire in his 
eyes, “ I ’ll stand no more of your insolence ! If 
Nannie Boone sees fit to throw me over for such a fel- 
low as you are, all right ; but neither you nor any 
other fellow will twit me of it, as you have just done, 
without something happening to him. Do you under- 
stand what I mean, Mr. Wayne ?” 

“ Oh, you threaten, do you ?” sneered Wayne. “ I 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


271 


don’t cdre that ” — with a contemptuous snap of his 
fingers — “ for you or your threats. I’ m not afraid of 
you.” 

I don’t know whether you are or not,” said Dick, 
between his teeth, while his eyes flashed fire. “ But I 
know this, sir, I can knock you down as easy as noth- 
ing ; and if you dare give me another insolent word, 
I ’ll do it, too.” 

“ If by insolence you mean telling the truth about 
your getting the mitten, I shall have to repeat my in- 
solence,” responded Wayne, with an air of bravado. “ I 
wasn’t aware that it affected a fellow as it seems to do 
you. The sensation can’t be very agreeable, judging 
from your looks. Can’t you — ” 

Yes, sir, I can^ and I w///,” interrupted Dick, with a 
well-directed blow from his muscular fist planted 
squarely between Wayne’s eyes. The singing-teacher 
fell to the ground like an ox before a butcher’s ax. 

‘‘ I should say that sensation wasn’t very agreeable, 
judging from your looks,” said Dick, folding his arms 
and smiling down upon his rival, who was half stunned 
by the blow. His face was covered with blood. 

“ Curse you !” cried Wayne, managing to get upon 
his feet. “ I ’ll pay you for this ! I never forget a 
blow, and I swear I ’ll make you repent the day you 
laid your hand upon me !” 

“ You needn’t mind paying for what you ’ve had,” 
said Dick, quietly. “ You ’re welcome to it, and there ’s 
more to be had just like it, where that came from, 
whenever you want it.” 

Fool !” hissed Wayne, furiously, with livid lips, 
which seemed all the more livid because of the contrast 
between them and the blood upon his face. “ I wish I 
could kill you !” 

I don’t doubt that in the least,” laughed Dick, taunt- 


2TZ 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


ing-ly. “ But I wouldn’t advise you to say much about 
it, if you don’t want to get hurt worse than you are 
now. You won’t be in very good trim for singing- 
school, as it is.” 

Wayne sprang at him like a tiger. 

But Dick was too quick for him. He stepped aside, 
and as Wayne struck at the place where he had stood, 
Dick grappled him by the shoulder and his trousers and 
slung him over the rail-fence into the road. 

“There, that solves your difficulty about getting 
past the gate,” he said, in a tone that was steady with 
concentrated passion. “ I don’t care to have any further 
trouble with you ; but if you don’t let me alone and 
keep out of my way, I ’ll give you something you won’t 
forget for many a day to come.” 

“ Curse you ! Curse you ! Curse you !” hissed 
Wayne through bloody lips, as he struggled to his feet, 
his eyes full of a dangerous fire. “ I ’ll make you sorry 
for this before we’ve done with each other !” 

Then he turned and walked away, while Dick went 
back to the house and upstairs to- bed, feeling more at 
ease with all mankind than he had for some time 
past. 










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CHAPTER VI. 

THE SINGING-TEACHER SCORES ANOTHER CONQUEST. 

When Dick saw Wayne’s face next morning, he had 
to smile. It was purple between the eyes, and there 
was a bad bruise running up the forehead where his 
knuckles had cut into the flesh. 

“ It ’ll be some days before you get rid of my mark, 
my fine fellow,” Dick thought, as he looked his antag- 
onist over coolly. 

Wayne gave him one black look, and that was all. 
But it was sufficient to convince Dick that the trouble 
between them had just begun. Wayne was not a man 
to forget or overlook an injury. He would repay debts 
of that kind with interest, if possible to do so. 

“ I wonder what ’s happened to the singin’-teacher ?’, 
Samanthy called out to Dick, across the road, when he 
came to the field opposite Mr. Porter’s to plow. 

“ What do you mean ?” asked Dick, pretending to be 
in ignorance of her meaning. “ Has something hap- 
pened to him ?” 

“ I sh’d say there had,” answered Samanthy, with a 
broad grin. “ He looks as ef he ’s run ag’n suthin’. 
His face is jest the color o’ my black calicker dress 
after I washed it the fust time — in spots. Neither 

[273] 


274 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


black nor blue, but kind o* betwixt an* between. An*, 
my goodness, don't he look sour, though ? Ezra, he 
askt him what the matter was, and he growled out 
suthin* about a fall. I didn’t know what kind of a fall 
it mought ha’ be’n, but I thought p’rhaps did.” 

I shouldn’t wonder if I did,” answered Dick. He 
did run against something — this — ” and he held up ' 
his clinched hand. “ And he did have a fall. He fell 
over the fence. Ask him about it, Samanthy.” 

“I will so,” answered Samanthy, with twinkling 
eyes. 

When Nannie came home from school that after- 
noon, she gave Dick one scornful, indignant look, and 
then took no more notice of him. 

“ Wayne has filled her head with plausible stories 
about our quarrel, I suppose,” thought Dick. “ Of 
course, she considers me the one to blame. I am the 
villain, and he is the angel. Well, I don’t know as I 
care very much what she thinks about it, one way or 
the other.” 

Mr. Wayne and Nannie went to the singing-school 
together, and Dick concluded to go, too. He felt sure 
that there would be much comment about the con- 
dition of Wayne’s face, and he wanted to hear what 
was said. 

‘‘ I ’ll go ’round by Rhoda’s,” he made up his mind ; 
and so he set off across the woods by the path leading 
to the Stevens’s place. Rhoda was just starting for 
singing-school when he came out to the road, in com- 
pany with her ten-year-old brother Ned. She said: 

“ Good evening !” pleasantly to Dick, and he took the 
path beside her, while Ned, glad to get a chance to 
get away, like all small boys under similar circum- 
stances, ran on ahead and left them to come at their 
leisure. 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


275 


** How do you get along learning to sing ?" asked 
Dick, presently, at a loss for anything else to say. 

“Oh, ever so much better than I expected to,” 
answered Rhoda. “ Mr. Wayne is so kind. He takes 
so much pains to help me. I — I wonder where he has 
been all day.” 

And then Rhoda looked rather confused, as if she 
had come near betraying a secret. 

“ I don’t know,” answered Dick. “ Why do you ask, 
Rhoda ?” 

“ Oh, I haven’t seen him, and — and I didn’t know — ” 

Then she paused abruptly, for Dick’s eyes were upon 
her, and she felt as if he were reading her thoughts. 

“ Does he come to see you, Rhoda ?” asked Dick. 

“ Yes, once in a while — to help me along about my 
singing,” answered Rhoda, rather reluctantly. 

“ Is that all ?” asked Dick. “ Are you sure he doesn’t 
come to say sentimental things, and try to make you 
think he has a particular friendship for you ?” 

“ I ’ve told you what he comes for,” said Rhoda, with 
an air of petulance. “ He said that I have naturally a 
very good voice, and with proper cultivation of it I 
can become a very fine singer. And he kindly offered 
to give me extra lessons, and I think it would have 
been very foolish in me to have let such a chance slip.” 

“ Be careful, Rhoda,” said Dick, soberly. “ He isn’t 
the kind of man I ’d like to have a sister of mine very 
intimate with. You haven’t any mother — ” 

“ I know I haven’t, but I think I am able to take 
care of myself,” burst out Rhoda, indignantly. “You 
don’t like him, I know that, and I know why. You 
blame him because Nannie has given you the cold 
shoulder. Now / know that he doesn’t care a feather 
for her, but she does for him. Boarding at her uncle’s, 
as he does, he has to be agreeable to her, of course,” 


276 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


“ I suppose he told you this ?” 

“ It doesn’t matter who told it to me,” answered 
Rhoda. I know it to be the truth. I think Nannie 
Boone ought to be ashamed of herself.” 

“ He has told you this story to make you think he is 
attentive to Nannie under compulsion,” said Dick. 
“ Now she may have been to blame in the matter — 
indeed, I know she has been — but I know, too, that he 
is not obliged to be as attentive to her as he is. He is 
deceiving both of you. That ’s the long and short of 
it. So long as he talks sweet to Nannie he is sure of 
keeping her blind to the truth. He tells you what you 
have told me to throw the responsibility of his going 
with Nannie upon her, and I presume he gives you to 
understand that he would greatly prefer your society 
to hers, but circumstances oblige him to be more or 
less attentive to her, and in that way he thinks he 
throws dust in your eyes about his attentions to her. 
Am I not right about this, Rhoda ?” 

“ I won’t be questioned in this way,” cried Rhoda. 
“ Mr. Wayne is my friend, and if I like him it ’s no- 
body’s business but my own. I know that you don’t 
like him, but I never supposed you would try to work 
against him in this way. He is too much of a gentle- 
man to talk about you behind your back.” 

“ I am very sorry that you are so blind,” said Dick, 
earnestly. “ I don’t say a word against Wayne because 
I don’t happen to be on friendly terms with him, but 
for your sake, Rhoda. It ’s out of friendship for you.” 

“ You are quite sure about that ?” asked Rhoda, with 
an incredulous smile. 

“ Yes, quite sure,” answered Dick. ** If Nannie sees 
fit to throw me by and take Wayne, that is her privi- 
lege. She vras bound to me by no verbal promise. I 
don’t blame him for what she has done, I blame 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


277 


him for his own actions ; and I am honest when I tell 
you that if there had been no ill-feeling between him 
and myself, I should feel that I was doing no more 
than my duty to tell you what I have, and advising you 
to be careful of the influence you allow him to gain 
over you.” 

“ Dick Brayton, I won’t listen to anything more of 
that kind of talk from you !” cried Rhoda, angrily. “ I 
am not such a bad creature as one would take me to 
be from what you are saying.” 

I beg your pardon if I have said anything that 
leads 5’ou to infer that I think there is anything bad in 
your conduct,” responded Dick. ** What I meant by 
what I said about his influence over you was simply 
this : He does not care a farthing for you. If he tells 
you that he does, he lies. He is amusing himself at 
your expense, and Nannie Boone’s, for he really cares 
no more for her than he does for you. But you believe 
what he tells you, and I suppose that she does, and be- 
fore either of you knows it, your hearts will become 
entangled in the web of deceit he weaves to snare them 
in ; and in proportion to the confidence you put in him 
and the influence he gains over you will be the pain 
which will surely come when you find out that he has 
fooled you. Be careful, Rhoda. I am talking to you 
as I would if you were my sister — as I would talk to 
you if Wayne had never laid a straw in my way.” 

“ Perhaps you are,” responded Rhoda, “ but it looks 
very much to me as if you were doing it out of spite.” 

“ Well, if you think that, there ’s no use in saying 
anything more about it,” said Dick. “Time will prove 
that I am right. I can afford to wait till that time 
comes.” 

He watched Rhoda closely when they had reached 
the school -house and she was in Wayne’s presence. 


278 THE SWAMP SECRET. 

And he was satisfied from what he saw, viewed in the 
light of what she had admitted in the conversation 
which had taken place during their walk to the school- 
house, that she was fascinated by Wayne. His influ- 
ence over her was already sufficient to make her blind 
to the real condition of affairs. Whatever he might 
tell her she would believe implicitly. To others it 
was quite evident that he was more interested in his 
flirtation with Nannie ; but to Rhoda, who believed 
what he had told her, Nannie was the aggressive 
party, and he suffered her to monopolize a share of 
his attentions simply because he couldn’t help himself. 
He knew well enough the exte nt of his influence over 
poor Rhoda. 

Many were the remarks made about the appearance . 
of Wayne’s face. Many conjectures were rife regard- 
ing the cause of its disfigurement. Before the even- 
ing session was over the truth had leaked out, and 
Dick heard it whispered on all sides that he and the 
singing-teacher had had a “ set-to,” and that Wayne 
had got the worst of the encounter. 

“I don’t countenance sich doin’s,” said Deacon 
Snyder, shaking his head in stern disapproval. “ I 
never got into fights in my young days, an’ I hain’t no 
patience with them that does.” 

P’rhaps nobody tried to cut you out when you was 
sparkin’,” suggested a young man. “ Mebbe you ’d ’a’ 
fit ef they had.” 

‘^ Nobody interfered ’twixt me an’ Sary Ann,” said 
the deacon; “so I can’t say what I would ha’ done 
under sich sarcumstances. Per my part, I think Dick ’s 
to blame, Ef the singin’-teacfier cut him out with 
Nance, he ’d orter grin an’ bear it an’ not try to git 
even by thumpin’ him. Let her go, an’ good riddance, 

I sh’d say. Ef Sary Ann had been foolish enough to 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


279 


give me the slip, I ’d ha’ let her went, an’ told the 
feller that got her to make the most on ’t. He, ’d ’a’ 
had the wust on ’t, I reckon.” And the deacon chuckled 
as he wouldn’t have dared do if Sary Ann had been 
there to hear him. 

When the session was over, Dick went up to Rhoda, 
who was standing by the door. 

“ May I walk home with you ?” he asked. 

“No, sir,” she replied curtly, and turned her back on 
him. 

“ Poor, foolish girl !” Dick thought, and walked 
away through the starlight, alone. 




CHAPTER VII. 

A MYSTERIOUS NOCTURNAL EXCURSION. 

That night was an extremely warm one. No wind 
was stirring in the tree-tops, as Dick went home. The 
air was singularly sultry and oppressive, and after he 
had got to bed he could not sleep. 

He lay there tossing restlessly about for some time. 
Then he got up and sat down by the window. The 
moon shone with great brilliancy, and he could quite 
distinctly discern objects farther away than the house 
of Mr. Porter, toward which his window looked. 

As he sat there, he saw a figure appear at the window 
in the gable of Mr. Porter’s house. The moonlight 
fell full upon it, and he could see that it was a man. 
This man stood by the window, leaning out, as if listen- 
ing, for some minutes. Then he made his way out 
upon the roof of the kitchen built against the end of 
the main building, and dropped from that to the 
ground. 

“ Wayne sleeps in this end of Porter’s house,” thought 
Dick. “ I wonder what he is up to now, climbing out 
of the house in this way at this time of night ? I ’ll 
keep an eye on the gentleman.” 

After reaching the ground, the man stood in the 
shadow of the shed for a few minutes, as if to make 
sure that the coast was clear. Presently the sound of a 
[280] 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


281 


night-bird’s call came from the woods near by. It was 
repeated three times, at regular intervals. 

The man — Dick knew well enough that it was 
Wayne — crossed the garden and climbed over the 
fence into the road. Then he walked rapidly away in 
the direction from which the sound of the night-bird’s 
call had come. 

“ I 'd like to know if that sound c^me from a bird 
with feathers and wings,” thought Dick. “ It might, 
but I don’t believe it did. I think the singing-teacher 
expected to hear it, and was waiting for it. It didn’t 
sound just like any other night-bird I ever heard, it 
seems to me.” 

Dick was tempted to follow Wayne and find out 
where he went. 

“ But perhaps I had better not,” he concluded. “ It 
would look too much like playing the spy. I ’ll wait 
till I have a better excuse for acting in the capacity of 
a detective.” 

But he sat by the window and watched for Wayne’s 
return. 

A half-hour went by. 

An hour. 

Still he did not return. 

“ He ’s up to some deviltry, I '11 warrant,” thought 
Dick. “ I ’d give a good deal to know what took him 
out of bed at this time of night, and off in that direc- 
tion.” 

For Wayne had taken a road leading back into the 
unsettled forest. A few sycamore logs had been 
hauled therefrom, for shingles, by the settlers of 
Brownsville, and for the purpose of getting these logs 
out the road had been roughly cut through the heavy 
timber, but it had never been used for any other pur- 
pose. Why should Wayne have taken it ? 


282 


THE SWAMP SECRET. . 


“ I ’m bound to see this thing through, now, if it 
takes all night,” said Dick. “ I ’ll sit here till morning, 
if he doesn’t come before.” 

It was two o’clock before Wayne returned from his 
midnight tramp. He climbed up to the roof of the 
kitchen, and in through the window of his room, and 
Dick saw no more of him that night. 

“ I ’d like to know what he ’s up to,” said Dick, more 
than once, before he went to sleep. “ Perhaps his 
bruised eye pained him so he couldn’t rest, and he 
thought he ’d see if a walk in the night air wouldn’t 
afford relief.” 

And then Dick laughed softly to himself at the 
thought of the mark he had left on the face of his rival. 




CHAPTER VIII. 

THE MESSAGE ON THE COTTONWOOD TREE. 

The next day was wet and rainy, and not at all favor- 
able for farm -work. 

“ I think I ’ll go hunting,” Dick said to Mr. Boone. 
“ Perhaps I can run on a covey of partridges.” 

“ A mess on ’em wouldn’t go bad, I allow,” said Mr. 
Boone. If I wa’n’t so liable to r’eumatiz I ’dgo ’long, 
but I don’t keer to be laid up a week from slashin’ 
’round through the wet, so I reckon I ’d better stay to 
home. You might ask Mr. Wayne to go, ef you ’re 
hankerin’ a’ter comp’ny,” he added, with a sly twinkle 
of his eye. 

“ Mr. Wayne and I can’t hunt on the same trail,” an- 
swered Dick. 

“ I see that,” said Mr. Boone. “ So does ev’rybody. 
I ’ve wanted to say suthin’ to ye about matters ’n’ 
things fer quite a spell, an’ 4 dunno but now ’s as good 
a chance as I sh’ll be likely to git. I want you to un- 
derstan’ that mother ’n’ I don’t uphold Nancy in what 
she ’s a-doin’. We ’ve talked to her about it, but — Lord ! 
it don’t do the least mite o’ good to try an’ argy or 
reason with a gal that ’s got a foolish idee in her head. 
I don’t reckon she keers an awful sight fer Wayne, but 
she thinks she ’s doin’ suthin’ purty smart, an’ opposin’ 

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284 


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her only makes her all the more detarmined to hev her 
own way. I don’t want ye to blame us. We don’t like 
it, but, as I said afore, we can’t help ourselves. She ’s 
eighteen, an’ can do as she likes if she sets about it. 
But I feel free to say she 's makin’ a fool of herself, an’ 
it ’s my candid opinyun that Wayne’s makin’ a fool of 
her, too.” 

** I don’t blame you in the least for what has hap- 
pened,” answered Dick. I have blamed no one but 
Nannie and Wayne, from the first. If she really cares 
more for him than she ever did for me, she ’s doing 
right in choosing him instead of me. If she doesn’t, 
she ’s doing wrong, and I ’ve told her so. But it doesn't 
make much difference with us about that now, for all 
is ended between us. She told me no, and when a girl 
tells me that, I ’m not the fellow to go coaxing ’round 
her, asking if she hadn’t better think it over and say 
yes. I take it for granted that she knows her own 
mind and means what she says.” 

“ Wall, I ’m desprit sorry anything’s happened,” said 
Mr. Boone, with a sigh. ** Mother ’n and me both felt 
as ef we ’dlike to hev a match of it atween you an* the 
gal, an' we s’posed ’twas the same as made. But it 
seems as ef you couldn’t be sartin o’ nothin’ till it 's 
done.” 

Dick shouldered his gun and set off. As he went 
around the corner of the hpuse he saw Nannie stand- 
ing in the kitchen-door, shaking the crumbs from the 
table-cloth for the chickens to pick up. She gave him 
one sidelong look, and then turned her attention on the 
poultry. 

“ Ah, you needn’t look at me if you don’t want to,” 
said Dick, with resentful feelings rising in his breast. 
'‘You can’t blame me for anything except the embel- 
lishment of your charming Mr. Wayne’s face. I haven’t 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


285 


tried to prevent your intimacy with him, and I don’t 
intend to. But I ’m not obliged to like him because 
you do, Miss Nancy Boone !” 

It was somewhere near the middle of the afternoon 
when Dick started toward home. Suddenly he caught 
sight of the print of a man’s foot in the soft, rain- 
moistened earth. He Bent down and examined it very 
carefully. 

“Well,” he said, as he scrutinized the footprint, 
“ this is rather a strange thing to find here. It must 
be at least three miles from Mr. Porter’s. I can’t 
imagine what pleasure a man would find in a three-mile 
walk in these woods, at the dead of night, among the 
mosquitoes and gnats.” 

From which the reader will readily understand that 
he believed the track to have been made by Mr. Wayne. 

He got down on his knees and examined the foot- 
print still more closely. It was certainly made by a 
foot that wore a boot from “ down below.” That was 
evident from the narrow sole, small heel and general 
shape. 

“Nobody wears such a boot but Wayne,” said Dick. 
“Wayne made that track. It points toward the 
swamp. I ’m going to see where he went to.” 

He followed the track for, perhaps, half an hour. 

“ Four miles from Porter’s, oj: I ’m no judge of dis- 
tance,” he said, as he paused to take breath. “ I won- 
der how much farther the singing-teacher walks on 
moonlight nights, when everybody else is supposed to 
be in bed ?” 

He did not have to go much farther before his ques- 
tion found an answer. The footsteps led to a large 
cottonwood-tree, and beyond that they did not go. 

And then Dick made a discovery that puzzled him. 
Jt was this ; 


286 


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The rough outside bark had been cut away, down 
to the smooth white inner lining, and on this were 
written in pencil the following words and figures : 

Averill’s, near Deer Creek, Wed., 4 & 6. No. i.” 

Dick read the message, or whatever it might be, 
over and over, with a very perplexed look in his face. 

^‘Averill’s!” he repeated. ‘‘That name sounds 
familiar to me. Let me see,*' thoughtfully. “There’s 
a man by that name living about eight miles from here, 
I think. He moved in lately. Yes, I ’m right, I know, 
for I heard that Deacon Snyder talked of trading 
horses with him. But what this has to do with him I 
can’t imagine.’’ He read the words on the tree over 
again. “ It ’s a rather queer thing to come across in 
such a place as this. I ’ve known of folks writing on 
trees for the fun of the thing, but I never heard of 
their getting up at midnight and going four miles into 
the woods to do it. It ’s all a riddle to me. But it ’s 
Wayne’s writing, plain enough. His letters on the 
blackboard, at singing-school, have just the same 
flourishes to them. Yes, it ’s clear to me that he wrote 
that ; but what he wrote it for I can’t guess. I ’ll see 
what can be made out of the puzzle, though, if keep- 
ing an eye on Wayne ’ll help any. ‘ Averill’s, Wednes- 
day !’ I wonder if that means that something is going 
to happen at Averill’s when Wednesday comes ?” 

He walked around the tree, examining the ground 
closely. 

He could see no other tracks. Evidently there had 
been but one person there. 

. The track froitt the tree led away a little to the south 
of the one he had followed to it. 

“ I ’m going to see what a little maneuvering will 
do,” said Dick, as he spied a little pine-tree near by. 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


287 


He took his knife from his pocket and cut away some 
of the rough bark on the outside. As soon as he had 
reached the inner bark, pitch began to exude in little, 
transparent drops. 

He had to wait some time before a sufficient amount 
to answer his purpose had accumulated. Then he took 
a chip and scraped some of the sticky stuff off upon it. 
Taking this to be cottonwood, he spread it over that 
part of the tree below the writing which would be 
most likely to come in contact with a man’s arm if he 
were to attempt to write on the smooth space above. 

“ There ! If I see any pitch on Wayne’s coat-sleeve, 
I shall be pretty sure he ’s been back here,” Dick said ; 
“ and, seeing that, I shall know when to come and see 
what’s been done.” 

For, though he could not give his reasons for it, he 
felt sure that the writing had been placed there for 
some one to read and to answer some special purpose, 
and that the party for whom it had been left would 
understand precisely what it meant. He meant to 
understand what it meant, too, before he let the mat- 
ter drop. 

He attempted to follow the trail from the tree. 
While it ran along the lowland, it was comparatively 
easy to do so. But as soon as it came to the higher 
land it disappeared. The rank growth of grass and 
other forest plants, the absence of which was notice- 
able as the land sloped eastwardly toward the Big 
Swamp, with the thick carpet of last year’s leaves still 
un rotted covering the ground, took no impression of 
the feet passing over them. 

Dick made up his mind to say nothing about his dis- 
covery to any one. He would wait and see what hap- 
pened. It was barely possible that Wayne had written 
the words on the tree under the impulse which men 


288 


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often feel to scribble on whatever surface presents 
itself for scribbling on. And then — and this was the 
idea that took firm possession of Dick’s mind — it might 
have been written for a purpose, and doubtless was. 

“ I '11 keep my eyes open, at an)^ rate," thought Dick. 
“ It may amount to something. If it don’t, there 's no 
harm done." 



CHAPTER IX. 

THAT WEDNESDAY NIGHT. 

Dick had made his discovery on Monday. Wednesday 
evening he went to singing-school. 

The mark on Wayne’s face had turned from purple 
to dark green, and was the subject of much merriment 
among the irreverent youngsters who attended singing- 
school. Wayne heard them, and knew what they were 
laughing about, but he pretended not to notice it. 

Dick had ceased to take an active part in the singing- 
school. He did not feel like receiving instructions 
from a man he disliked as much as he did Wayne. But 
he would not stay away from it. If he were to do that 
he knew that it would be said he stayed away on ac- 
count of the trouble between him and Nannie and the 
singing-master. So, to show them that he wasn’t in- 
clined to withdraw from society on their account, he 
came quite often, and was to all appearances the same 
jolly Dick Brayton that he had always been. But if I 
tell the truth, I have to record that a large share of his 
good spirits was assumed. Often when he looked at 
Nannie, and made some laughing remark to whoever 
sat next to him, he didn’t feel the least like laughing. 

[289] 


290 


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Try as he might, he could not get over his fondness 
for the girl who had jilted him. He knew that she 
had done wrong, and felt that she was not the girl he 
had thought her to be ; but, in spite^ of all that, she 
was still Nannie Boone, and Nannie Boone had been 
more to him that any other girl could ever be, he had 
to acknowledge to himself, much as he disliked to do 
so. There was a very sore spot in his heart, and it did 
not heal readily. Perhaps it would in time. He 
hoped so 

a fool to take it to heart so, I suppose,” he 
said to himself, more than once. But — I can’t help 
it!” 

When singing-school was over, and Nannie walked 
off home with Wayne, a feeling of depression came 
over him. 

“ I don’t want to go home yet,” he thought. “ I ’m 
blue as a whetstone to-night. If I went to bed I 
couldn’t go to sleep. I ’ll walk around by Rhoda’s, and 
if she ’s up when I get there I ’ll stop and see if I can’t 
talk matters over with her and get on friendly terms 
again if possible. I don’t like to have everybody whose 
good will I care for against me.” 

So he walked away from the school-house toward 
the Stevenses’ place. Rhoda had not been at singing- 
school that night. Perhaps she had found out that 
what he had told her about Wayne was true, and had 
stayed at home out of indignation. If so, it would be 
an easy matter for them to become friends again. If she 
hadn’t found it out yet she would be sure to later on. 

But when he reached the Stevenses’ place he had 
changed his mind. There was a light burning in the 
kitchen, but he did not care to stop. He did not care 
for Rhoda as he did for Nannie. He did not want her 
to get to thinking that he had anything but a brotherly 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


291 


regard for her. If he were to call on her at this time 
of night, for the purpose of trying to affect a recon- 
ciliation, she might misconstrue his motives. 

“ No, I won’t go in,” he said. 

Then he happened to think about a piece of land two 
miles farther on that he had had some idea of buying. 
He would go and take a look at it by moonlight. He 
might as well be rambling around as to go to bed and 
not be able to sleep. 

He reached the place. A small shanty had been 
built on it by some shingle-makers. He entered the 
rough building and sat down on a seat that ran across 
one end of it. 

He sat there and thought what course it was best 
for him to pursue. When he had talked of buying 
this land he had expected to marry Nannie Boone. 
He liked farming. Before many years farms in 
Brownsville would be worth a good deal of money. 
It seemed a safe investment to put what money he 
had in a piece of land like this. Now everything was 
changed. He had lost Nannie. If he were to buy 
this land he could not settle on it, for settling made it 
necessary to have a housekeeper. 

Thinking the matter over seemed to act as a 
soporific on him, for he fell into a troubled sleep. 

When he woke up he knew that he must have been 
asleep for some hours. 

He got up and went out. 

About two o’clock, I think,” he said, looking at 
the stars. “I ’m getting to be as much of a night- 
prowler as Wayne.” 

He set off toward home. 

As he passed the Green place, he heard the sound 
of crackling brush, and saw a cow making her way 
out of the garden, over the rude fence made of limbs 


292 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


and poles, closely followed by a man in scanty attire, 
who seemed to be trying- to do what he considered 
justice to the occasion by firing off a fearful volley of 
oaths after the trespassing animal. 

“ It ’s Bill Green, and if he sees me he ’ll be wonder- 
ing where I ’ve been at this time of night,” thought 
Dick. He turned out of the main track of the road in 
order to get in the shadow of the trees on that side. 
He concluded that Bill did not see him and was glad 
of it, for he did not feel in the mood to answer ques- 
tions. 

The roosters were crowing, and a streak of red in 
the east told that day was breaking when he reached 
home. 




CHAPTER X. 

HORSE - THIEVES. 

Dick was plowing in the field by the road on Thurs- 
day, when he heard the thud of a horse’s feet in the 
highway. Looking that way, he saw a man riding up 
the hill. The horseman saw Dick, and rode up to the 
fence, beckoning him to come that way. 

Dick wound the reins around the handle of the plow 
and walked across the field to the fence, where the 
man was awaiting him. 

“ I say, stranger,” he called out, before Dick had 
reached the fence, “hev ye seen anything of any 
strange bosses ’round these diggin’s to-day ?” 

“ No. I haven’t,” answered Dick. 

** Yer sure, air ye ?” questioned the horseman. “ I 
didn’t know but ye mought ’a’ seen ’em an’ kinder 
forgot about it. One was sorrel an’ t’ other was bay.” 

^‘Yes, I’m quite sure,” answered Dick. “Horses 
aren’t so plenty hereabouts that I wouldn’t have re- 
membered if I had seen any strange ones. Have you 
lost some ?” 

“ No, I hain’t, but a neighbor of mine has,” was the 
reply. 

“ Broke out of the pasture and run away, I suppose,” 
said Dick, 

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“ Wall, we ain’t so sure whether they broke out or 
was took out,” answered the man. “ They mought 
’a’ got out ’thout any help, and then again they 
moughtn’t.” 

“ You don’t mean to say that you think they were 
stolen ?” cried Dick. 

“ Wall, it kinder looks as ef somebody had suthin’ tu 
do with their gittin’ away,” replied the other. 

‘‘ Whose horses were they ?” asked Dick, beginning 
to feel some of the excitement which horse-thieves and 
their depredations always aroused on the frontier. 

‘‘ Averill’s, down by Deer Creek,” answered the man 
on horseback. 

“ What ? Who ?” cried Dick, with a great start. 
“ Did you say the horses belonged to a man named 
Averill ?” 

“ Yes, that’s the name,” was the reply. “ Heerd any- 
thing about it afore T 

“ No, I haven’t,” answered Dick, hardly knowing 
what he was saying, because his brain was in a whirl 
of excitement. 

“ Averill’s, near Deer Creek,” kept beating back and 
forth like a refrain. He seemed to see before him the 
old cottonwood-tree with the mysterious words. 

When were the horses taken ?” he asked presently. 

“ Last night,” was the reply. 

“And yesterday was Wednesday ?” 

“ Yes, yesterday was Wednesday,” responded the 
man. 

“ Averill’s — near Deer Creek — Wednesday.” 

Dick repeated the words aloud, unconscious of the 
presence of the man on horseback, who was watching 
him -and wondering what made him look and act so 
strangely. Tangled threads were trying to straighten 
themselves out in his brain. 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


295 


‘‘ Dick Brayton, when you found that writing- on the 
old tree, you found something that referred, in some 
way, to what was done last night,” he told himself. 
“ I ’m sure of it,” he added, aloud. 

“ Did you speak to me ?” asked the man. 

“ No,” answered Dick, rousing himself from the 
abstraction into which his train of thought had thrown 
him. “ About what time do you think the horses were 
stolen ?” 

“Wall, we don’t say right out that we think they 
was stole,” answered the man. “ But I allow it kin’ o’ 
looks that a way. Whether they were stole or got out 
o’ their own accord, it must ha’ happened summers 
’twixt ten an’ daylight. They was there, all right, 
when ol’ man Averill went to bed, an’ they was missin’ 
when he got up this mornin’. That ’s ’bout all I can 
tell ye, ’cept the fence that they must ’a’ got out through, 
or b’en helped through, was a good one, an’ the bosses 
never was knowed to be onruly, an’ we don’t see how 
they come to take it intu their heads to git breachy 
all to onct. The fact is, we don’t b’leeve they ever got 
out o’ the field ’thout help ; but b’leevin’ ain’t knowin’, 
you know.” 

“ Have you found any track of them yet ?” asked 
Dick. 

“ Nothin’, ’cept as fur as the road,” was the reply. 
“ It rained about daylight — a reg’lar, right-smart leetle 
pour-down while it lasted — an’ you can’t track nothin’ 
this mornin’, on that account, only here an’ there, where 
the ground ’s so hard it don’t wash easy.” 

“ Have you any suspicions of who could have taken 
them ?” 

“ No more ’n the man in the moon,” was the reply. 
“ They ’re gone, an’ that ’s all I can tell ye. I ’ve met 
nigh on to a dozen men this mornin’, and none of ’em 


20G 


THE SWAM? SECRET. 


has seen hide or hair o’ the critters. It ’s mighty 
queer. Seems jest as ef the airth had opened an’ 
swallered ’em.” 

It is queer,” said Dick. Do you want help in 
looking for them ?” 

Yes, all we can git,” was the answer. “ Averill, 
he ’s a poor man, an’ can’t afford to lose his team. 
Mebbe we’re worryin’ ’thout any reason, an’ they’ll 
turn up summers ’round the kentry ; but I allow it 
looks ’s ef they was took. Anyhow, ’taint no more ’n 
fair an’ neighborly fer us to turn out an’ help him hunt 
fer ’em.” 

“ Of course, we ’ll all help,” said Dick. “ Is there to 
be an organized search, or is every one to work inde- 
pendently ?” 

“ Wall, you see, we hain’t got so fur as that yit,” 
was the reply. “ We hain’t knowed what to do, ’cause 
we hain’t knowed what to think. They ’re to meet at 
Averill’s at noon or thereabout and fix up some plan, 
ef the bosses don’t turn up afore that time.” 

Fifteen minutes later, Dick, Mr. Boone and the mes- 
senger from Averill’s rode away together. 

As they came opposite Mr. Porter’s they saw Wayne 
sitting in the doorway, with a singing-book in his 
hand, humming over the tunes to be sung at the next 
session of the singing-school. 

“ Hello !” called out Dick to Samanthy, who was 
standing at the kitchen window, evidently wondering 
about the cavalcade she beheld. “ Did you know there 
were horse-thieves about this morning ?” 

He watched Wayne as he asked the question to see 
what effect the words had on him. 

The singing-teacher looked up from his book for a 
moment as indifferently as he might at the sound of 
any voice heard unexpectedly, but either did not 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


297 


understand what had been said or felt no interest in 
it, for, when he saw who the speaker was, he dropped 
his eyes upon his book again and went on with his 
singing. 

“ You don’t say !” cried Samanthy, coming to the 
door, all excitement in a moment. “ Whose bosses 
have b’en took V* 

“ Averill’s, near Deer Creek,” answered Dick, with 
his eyes on Wayne’s face. But its quiet, unconcerned 
look baffled him. 

“ Wall, I mus’ say that ’s cornin’ purty clus home,” 
remarked Samanthy. ** I wouldn’t wonder a bit ef 
they got ’round these diggin’s ’fore long. Hope they ’ll 
ketch ’em an’ string ’em up.” 

*‘Tell Ezra,” called out Mr. Boone. Mebbe he ’ll 
want to turn out and help hunt.” 

“ I will so,” answered Samanthy. 

Then the party rode off. It was joined by several 
others before they reached Averill’s, where they found 
quite a crowd assembled. Old men, young men and 
boys were there. It seemed as if all the male portion 
of the community had turned out to help hunt horse- 
thieves. The excitement was intense. 

Each person had a theory of his own to offer. Each 
person also had a plan of his own to propose and ad- 
vocate respecting the search. The consequence was 
that it was nearly two o’clock before they began to 
do anything. 

“ You didn’t see or hear nothin’ o’ strangers las’ night, 
did ye ?” asked Bill Green of Dick as they stood to- 
gether, waiting for some plan of action to be decided 
on. 

“ No. How would I be likely to see anything of 
them ?” asked Dick. ’Tisn’t likely they came around 
Mr. Boone’s.” 


298 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


I didn’t s’pose they did come ’round Mr. Boone’s,” 
responded Bill. “ ^\x\. you wa’n’t there all the time. I 
didn’t know but you mought ha’ heerd suthin’ when 
you was down this way last night.” 

‘‘Aren’t you mistaken about my being down this 
way ?” asked Dick. 

“ No, I hain’t,” answered Bill, stoutly. • “ I kind o’ 
reckon that you s’picioned I see ye. Was you out 
sparkin’ 

Bill asked his question at random. When he asked 
it, Dick thought of the idea he had had of calling on 
Rhoda, and taking that knowledge of his intention 
into consideration, along with the fact of his having 
accompanied her home several times from singing- 
school, on the strength of which occurrence Bill Green 
had prophesied a match, it seemed to him that Bill 
must, in some way, have an inkling of what his inten- 
tions of the night before had been, and he could not 
keep down the color from his face. He saw that Bill’s 
suspicions were aroused in some vague way, and, dis- 
liking the fellow as he did, that made him indignant, 
and he turned away with the 'remark that he didn’t 
know that it was anybody’s business where he had been 
or what his business was. A most unfortunate remark 
to make, under the circumstances, as he had to admit, 
later. 

“ It looks mighty curi’s to me,” Bill said to the men 
who had been standing by, listening to the conversa- 
tion. “ He jes’ as good as denied bein’ out las’ night, 
when I tackled him about it. Ye heerd what he said 
about it, I reckon. Now I ’m willin’ to swear on a 
stack o’ Bibles big ’s a meetin’-house that he went by 
our house about two o’clock, fer I was up a-drivin’ the 
cow out o’ the gardin, an’ I see a man a-skulkin’ 
along the road, an’ when he see me he kind o’ 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


299 


sheered off into the shadder, as ef he didn’t want to be 
seen. But I see him, fer all that, jest as plain ’s day, 
an’ it was Dick Brayton, an’ he knows it. S’posen we 
find out whether he was to anybody’s house las’ night. 
Jest you make inquiries, kind o’ sly, so ’s t’ not git him 
to mistrustin’ anything. Ef he zvas anywhere I ’d like 
to know it. Ef he wa’ n’t I ’d like to know where he ’d 
be’n to at that time o’ night. He tried to bamboozle 
me by pretendin’ I was mistaken. But I tell ye I 
zvasn't. When I see a man I knozv him, and he can’t 
cram the eion-tra-rj down my throat ! No, sirree, not 
by a goldarn sight. My name ’s Bill Green, an’ I ’m 
willin’ to back up what Bill Green says, any day. Yes 
sir ; I be, an’ ye can bet yer bottom dollar on ’t, ef ye 
want to,” and by way of making the assertion more 
emphatic Bill expectorated a great mouthful of tobacco- 
juice at the head of an unlucky chicken which hap- 
pened to pass. 

It takes but little to arouse a person’s curiosity and 
excite suspicion. There were plenty who were willing 
and ready to inquire if Dick Brayton had been at any 
one’s house on Wednesday evening. No one had seen 
him after singing-school, except Bill Green. 

But the excitement of the search made everything 
else secondary for the time, and Bill let the ball he had 
set rolling rest for the present ; but he had not got 
through with it by any means. He would set it in mo- 
tion again, if necessary, and he always felt it obligatory 
upon him to do anything that would annoy a person 
against whom he had a grudge. 

The search began. 

The woods were scoiired in all directions. 

Everything was done that men who have no clue to 
work from could do. 

For two days the search was kept up faithfully. But 


300 


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not a trace was found of horses or horse-thieves. 
Everybody was completely mystified. It seemed very 
much, as the man who spread the news of the theft had 
said, as if the earth had opened and swallowed them up. 
It ’s no use to look longer,” said Averill, on the 
evening of the second day. “ We We done all we could. 
We Ve b’en everywhere, ’ceptin’ in the Big Swamp, an’ 
there hain’t no use o’ goin’ there, ’cause a man can’t 
travel in it, much less a hoss. So we know they can’t 
be there ^ ’thout takin’ the trouble to look. We ’ll have 
to give it up as a bad job, boys,” he added with a little 
quaver in his voice. To lose one’s horses in those 
days, was to lose the greater share of one’s dependence. 
“ I ’m much obleeged to ye fer yer kindness, an’ I hope 
tu hev a chance tu pay ye back, some day, but not in 
the same way.” 

So the search ended and nothing had been accom- 
plished by it. 

“ I don’t understand about Dick Brayton’s tryin’ to 
lie out o’ bein’ off summers that night,” said Bill Green 
to his particular cronies. “ I ’m a-goin’ to look inter 
the matter a leetle. Mebbe it ’s all right, but what 
puzzles me is, why sh’d he try to deny it when he knows 
I see him ?” 

Of course, this hint of Bill’s that there was some- 
thing wrong was a subject of frequent conversation 
among his friends after that, and it was but a short 
time before Dick was under a suspicion which was to 
culminate in a charge of villainy against him. 



; 



CHAPTER XL 

THE TELL-TALE PITCH-STAIN. 

A day or two went by. 

The excitement began to lull a little. 

But there was no danger of its dying out for a long 
time to come, even if nothing more of the kind which 
had aroused it were to happen, for the recollection of 
a horse-stealing transaction was to the early settlers 
what our late war is to those who took part in it — 
something to be talked over and wondered about every 
time two or three interested neighbors get together. 

Monday morning Dick happened to be wanting an 
iron of some sort to make a repair on his plow. Not 
finding one about Mr. Boone’s house or barn, he went 
over to Mr. Porter’s to see if he could find what he 
wanted there. 

Samanthy was in the front yard, giving little vicious 
dabs at a coat which was hanging on the clothes-line. 
She had a basin of soapsuds on a block of wood beside 
her, and with this solution, applied with a rag, she was 
endeavoring to accomplish something with the gar- 
ment before her. 

** Have you taken to cleaning old clothes ?” asked 
Dick, coming up behind her, unobserved. 

Samanthy gave a little piping cry, that was first 

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THE SWAMP SECRET. 


cousin to a fashionable young lady’s shriek, and nearly 
jumped out of her shoes, she was so startled. 

“Land o’ goodness, how you scairt me!” she cried. 
“I didn’t know as there was a man anywheres 'round 
the diggin’s.” 

“I don’t believe you ’re as much afraid of the men 
as you ’d like to make me think you are,” laughed 
Dick. “ I ’d like to know what you ’re doing.” 

“I ’m cleanin’ up that feller’s coat,” answered Sa- 
manthy, with a vicious emphasis on “ that feller ” and 
an accompanying vicious twitch of the garment be- 
longing to him. 

“ Can’t he clean his own clothes ?” asked Dick, eying 
the coat closely. “ Is he so busy he can’t find time to 
do it himself ?” 

“ I s’pose so,” answered Samanthy, spitefully. “ Ef 
he had a couple more gals to make fools of, we ’d hev 
to wait on him the whole endurin’ time.” 

“ Meaning Nannie and — ” 

“An’ Rhody,” said Samanthy, finishing the sentence 
for Dick. “ Oh, I ain’t blind by no means ! Bless ye, 
I ’ve seen how things was a-goin’ fer a good spell 
back, an’ I jest keep a-puttin’ in my say whenever I 
git a chance, an’ you jest mark my words an’ see if 
that feller don’t have a fallin’-out with both o’ them 
gals afore long. I 've talked to Nancy, an’ I ’ve talked 
to Rhody, an’ ’twon’t be sich a great while afore I git 
’em worl^ed up so ’t they ’ll give Mr. Singin’-teacher 
to understand that he can’t palaver ’round ’em both in 
the way he ’s doin’ now. Ye see, the way ’tis now, he ’s 
a makin’ Rhody b’leeve she ’s playin’ fust fiddle when 
he ’s with her, an’ when he ’s with Nancy, why, she 's 
the one. Gals don’t put up with the idee o’ playin’ 
second fiddle for nobody, so there ’s a-goin’ to be the 
biggest kind of a rumpus afore a great spell, an’ I ain’t 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


303 


a mite ashamed to own up that I ’m a-doin’ all I can to 
help it along. Consarn his picter, I don’t like him, an’ 
never did. He was a-sayin’ suthin’ he thought awful 
sharp about ol’ maids, t’ other day, but I didn’t let on 
I heerd him, though I knew he was a-sayin’ it fer my 
’special benefit, but, thinks I, jest you wait an’ see if 
there hain’t one ol’ maid that ’s enough fer ye, when 
she gits a chance to do suthin.” 

I have been considerably worried on Rhoda’s 
account,” said Dick. “ Having no mother to advise 
her, he has a greater chance to influence her than 
Nannie. And I think, too, that Rhoda cares more for 
him than Nannie does.” 

I guess you ’re right about that,*’ responded Sa- 
manthy, “but ye needn’t worry. Rhody ’s smart 
enough to look out fer herself, I reckon, though she ’s 
kind o’ soft about some things, like ’most all gals.” 

Well, I hope so,” said Dick, rather skeptically, how- 
ever. “ But it seems to me that that coat must be un- 
commonly dirty, judging from the amount of labor 
you are laying out on it.” 

“’Taint exactly dirt,” explained Samanthy. “It’s 
pitch. He’s daubed one sleeve clear up to the elbow. 

I ’d like to know where he ’s been to get pitch on 
his clothes?” wondered Dick. “There isn’t a pine- 
tree anywhere about the neighborhood, though there 
may be some small ones near the Big Swamp.” 

“ I dunno where he got it from, but it ’s there, sure 
enough,” responded Samanthy. “ He come a-fetchin’ 
out the coat a little spell ago as pomp’us as a kurnel o’ 
m’lishy, trainin’-day, an’ sez he : * I want this cleaned,’ 
as ef I was obleeged to trot ’round when he told me to. 
* I ’ll give you a quarter ef you ’ll clean it,’ says he, 
a-seeing’ that I was goin’to git huffy ’bout bein’ ordered 
’round. That made a difference. I couldn’t aim a 


304 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


quarter any quicker, so I said I ’d do it, an’ that ’s what 
I ’m up to now.” 

“ Samanthy,” said Dick, in a low and mysterious 
whisper, “ I believe I could tell where that pitch came 
from.” 

“ Why — what d’ ye mean .>” asked Samanthy, her 
woman’s curiosity all aroused in an instant by the air 
of mystery about Dick’s words and manner. 

“ I mean just this : That I believe Wayne’s a rascal,” 
answered Dick. “ I believe he could tell us who stole 
those horses if he saw fit to.” 

“ Good land o’ deliverance !” cried Samanthy. 
“ Hev you any idee who under the sun an’ airth it was ? 
Hey ?” 

“ I have,” answered Dick. “ But I don’t want to say 
anything more now. Perhaps I ought not to have said 
as much as I have, but I know you can keep things to 
yourself. I haven’t told you anything that amounts to 
much, but it may set you to thinking, and if you keep 
your eyes and ears open you may see and hear some- 
thing that will help to straighten things out. I think, 
as I said, that I know where that pitch came from, and 
to-night I’m going to find out whether I am right or 
wrong about it. If I am, I shall feel sure that I know 
who one of the men is that helped to steal Averill’s 
horses.” 

“ Do you s’picion him ?*' asked Samanthy, in a whis- 
per, with a furtive look about them, as if she half ex- 
pected to find Mr. Wayne listening to their conversation. 

“ Yes, I do,” answered Dick. But I wasn’t going 
to say anything more about it, was I ? I ’ll tell you 
more about what I think before long. In the mean- 
time keep what I ’ve hinted to yourself, Samanthy.” 

‘‘ I will so,” responded Samanthy. But how d’ ye 
come to mistrust — ” 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


305 


But Dick was resolute in his determination to say no 
more about the matter then. 

** Wait awhile,” he said, and went back to his work. 

“ Fer goodness’ sake !” Samanthy kept saying to her- 
self, by spells, all day. “ I ’d like to know if it can be 
so ! The idee ! A hoss-thief in the house ! My good- 
'less I” 




CHAPTER XII. 

BILL GREEN AS A DETECTIVE. 

It was after nine o’clock, and the singing-class was 
in the middle of a new tune, when Bill Green, who 
was sitting by the window of the school-house, looked 
out and saw a man going down the path leading to the 
crossroads from Mr. Boone’s. 

“ ’Pears to me that looks like Dick Brayton,” thought 
Bill. Wonder what he ’s skulkin’ ’round a’ter now 

Dick had stopped in the path and was listening to 
the singing. As Bill watched him from the window 
he started on. 

^‘He ’s goin* frofu home,” said Bill to himself. “I ’m 
a-goin’ to foller him an’ see where he goes t/iis time — 
or my name ain't Bill Green !” 

He contrived to slip out of the schooUhouse without 
being observed and crept cautiously along the path 
toward the place where he had seen Dick last. It was 
a cloudy night and one could see but a little way into 
the gloom, except when the clouds broke away for a 
moment and let the moon shine through. 

There had been one of these breaks in the clouds 
when Dick paused to listen, and Bill, looking out just 
at that time, had had no trouble in recognizing him. 
His curiosity was excited at once when he saw Dick 
[306] 


t 

i 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


307 


going away from Mr. Boone’s. But one settler lived 
in that direction, a German, unable to talk a dozen 
words of English, and with him Dick would be un- 
likely to have any business. 

Bill had been keenly suspicious of Dick ever since 
the conversation which took place at Averill’s on the 
first day of the search, and it was therefore quite 
natural, and but the work of a moment, for him to 
decide to play the spy. 

Dick had started for the cottonwood-tree, on which 
he expected to find something new, by a route some- 
what more roundabout than the one he had taken on 
the day of the discovery of the writing, but part of the 
way would run on higher ground, where the under- 
brush was thinner, and travelling in a cloudy night 
would thus be rendered easier. 

Bill Green crept along the road swiftly in shadow 
till he could faintly discern Dick’s figure ahead. Then 
he slackened his pace and kept along at a safe distance 
behind. 

About a mile from the school-house Dick struck off 
into the woods. 

Bill followed him with all the eagerness of a blood- 
hound on the scent of a fleeing fugitive. 

“ This is gettin’ to be mighty excitin’,” whispered 
Bill to himself. “ I wonder what it ’s goin’ to amount 
to r 

Two or three drops of cold perspiration broke out on 
Bill’s forehead as the thought of horse-thieves came 
into his mind. At heart he was a coward. Horse- 
thieves stood to him for all that was desperate and 
dangerous. To be near them was to be on the brink 
of a precipice. 

He fully realized the awful danger he might be in 
should Dick prove to be one of those dare-devil char- 


308 


THE SWAMI> SECRET. 


acters and happen to discover him. But he wasn't 
going to back out now. He hated Dick too much to 
give up while there was a chance of discovering some- 
thing against him. 

On they went, through the gloom of the night, the 
thick trees making such a darkness about them that 
often Bill lost sight of the man he was following. 
Then he would pause and listen, and the sound of a 
breaking branch, or some bush snapping beneath the 
pressure of Dick’s hand, would set him on the track 
again, and he would hurry on till he caught a vague 
glimpse of the figure, which was hardly more palpable 
to the sight than a shadow among other shadows. 

“ Wall, I sw’ar,” exclaimed Bill, under his breath, as 
they penetrated deeper and deeper into the forest, 

this is gettin’ interestin’ an’ no mistake. I wish I had 
dad’s ol’ muskit along. It 'u’d kin’ o’ seem like 
comp’ny.” 

Bill was fully prepared to do one thing, and that was 
to run if he were to be discovered. Under the circum- 
stances, he felt he could run well. 

At length Dick reached the cottonwood. 

He struck a match on his coat-sleeve and held it up 
to the tree. 

When Bill saw that light he felt sure that the moment 
of discovery had come. 

Close by where he stood was a clump of hazel bushes. 
He obeyed the first impulse that came to him and 
dodged behind them. 

Peering through them he could see Dick standing by 
the tree, but not at all distinctly. He dared not at- 
tempt to get a position where he could see to better 
advantage for fear of making his presence known. 

In the light of the match which Dick held up to the 
tree he saw that the old writing had been erased and 


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309 


a new message, if that was what it might be called, 
left in its place. 

Much as the other had puzzled him, this one puzzled 
him still more. 

It was like this : 


• 


2, 3 & 4. 

I 


** Well, I must own up I ’m up a stump now,” ex- 
claimed Dick, as he regarded the inscription blankly. 
“ Two, three, four and one. A cross, with a dot in 
one of its angles. This is a vast improvement on the 
other, so far as being mysterious goes.” 

He struck another match and examined it still more 
closely. But the scrutiny gave him no key to the 
strange riddle. 

“ The pitch that I left in little patches has been well 
smeared over the bark,” he said, lowering the flicker- 
ing match from the writing to the rough surface of the 
bark, immediately below it. “ It is as I thought, Mr. 
Wayne ; you rested the arm on which that coat-sleeve 
was against the tree while you made your puzzle for 
me to rack my brains over.” 

He turned away from the tree and began his home- 
ward journey, passing within a foot of where Bill 
Green was hidden. Bill held his breath, fearful that 


310 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


his hiding-place would be discovered, and he waited 
for some time after Dick had passed him before he 
dared stir. He wanted to feel perfectly sure that the 
man he had watched was a safe distance away before 
he made any investigations. If Dick were to retrace 
his steps and come upon Bill suddenly, while he was 
examining the tree where he had seen Dick at work, it 
would be awkward for him to explain matters. 

When he had waited for perhaps a quarter of an 
hour, he concluded that it was safe for him to venture 
out. He did so, cautiously. 

He made his way to the tree. When he reached it 
he stopped and listened. 

Nothing was to be heard save the moaning of the 
wind in the treetops and the rustling of the grass 
growing among the underbrush. 

With a hand that trembled like the traditional aspen- 
leaf, he struck a match and took his turn at examining 
the cottonwood. 

What he saw there was as puzzling to him as it had 
had been to Dick. 

“Wall, I snum,” exclaimed Bill, with wide-open 
mouth and eyes full of wonder. “ This beats me. I 
s’pose he knows what it meant, ’cause he made it, but 
I couldn't make out head nor tail on 't ef I was to go 
to thunder.” 

From which the reader will perceive that Bill be- 
lieved that Dick had placed the mysterious and baffling 
marks there. From his hiding-place he had not been 
able to see distinctly what was done, and it was quite 
natural for him to believe that Dick had written on the 
tree while he was standing by it, and that he had seen 
him do it. 

“ I tell foil” exclaimed Bill, to some unseen com- 
panion, “ that air Dick Bray ton’s a deep one, an’ no 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


311 


mistake. That thing there means more ’n I hev any 
idee of, I ’ll bet a dollar. Figgers an’ spots an’ crosses. 
It means suthin\ but gol darn my pictar ef I can tell 
what ! I snum, I ’d be willin’ tii give the brindle 
steer to know jest what the plaguy thing stan’s fer, I 
would so. I know what I ’m a-goin’ to du, fust thing 
in the mornin’. I ’m a-goin’ to go an’ see the singin’- 
teacher about it. I will, I vum. He ’s sharp, an’ 
mebbe he can see thru it. Dick Brayton, gol durn ye, 
you think yer mighty smairt, an’ too good to ’sociate 
with me, but I kin’ o’ reckon I ’ll git even with ye, 
some way. Ef I ever git a chance to pay ye off I ’m 
a-goin’ to du it. You don’t dream that ye ’ve got Bill 
Green on yer track, but he ’s there, an’ he ’ll foller ye 
like a houn’. He will so.” 

Bill Green, as I have said, could remember an old 
grudge like an Indian. He was not the person to for- 
get or forgive. In reality Dick had never interfered 
with him in any way, but he took pleasure in making 
himself think that, if Brayton had not come upon the 
scene, Nannie might have accepted his attentions. 
While the truth was, Nannie had always had a cordial 
dislike for him, but out of pure mischief she had en- 
couraged him to think the time might come when she 
would feel more friendly toward him. But after Dick 
came she had not even a smile for poor Bill. He was 
forlorn and despondent for a time, and then waxed 
wrathy and vindictive. He had long been on the 
lookout for an opportunity to “get even” with his 
rival. 

“ I hain’t much on the fight, I allow,” Bill admitted 
to himself. “ He ’d lick the socks off’n me in a jiffy, 
but I can git even with him some other way, I reckon.” 

At last, he began to think, the looked-for opportunity 
was at hand. 


312 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


He slept but little that night. The events of the 
last few hours made him restless, and visions of horse- 
thieves, strange hieroglyphics and Dick Brayton flitted 
before his mind’s eye, in the silence and darkness of 
his room in the loft of his father’s little log-house. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

THE AMATEUR DETECTIVE CONSULTS. 

As he had decided to do when he made his midnight 
discovery, Bill Green came to see Mr. Wayne next 
morning. 

The singing-teacher listened to his story with an 
interest that gratified Bill greatly. He felt that he 
was acting in a role of greater importance, perhaps, 
than he was aware of. That would be decided by 
after-events. 

The sense of the possible, if not probable, import- 
ance of what he had to tell induced him to assume a 
dignity as grotesque as it was unnatural. He put on a 
patronizing air as he asked Wayne’s advice. It implied 
that it was not at all necessary for him to ask advice of 
any one, but, under the circumstances, he would be 
willing to listen to any suggestions the other might 
have to offer. 

Wayne looked at him with a singular expression on 
his face as he told about the mysterious inscription he 
had seen Dick make on the old cottonwood-tree. 

“You say you saw him make it, do youi*” asked 
Wayne. 

“ I did so,” answered Bill. 

“ And you are sure you saw him going past your 

[3'3l 



314 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


place at one or two o’clock on the night Averill’s horses 
were stolen ?” 

“ I did so,” replied Bill, as solemnly as if he were 
answering questions on a witness-stand. 

“ Could you make me a copy of what you saw on the 
cottonwood-tree ?” asked Wayne. 

“ I reckon,” replied Bill. “ I looked at it long enough 
an’ sharp enough to git it all by heart, I allow.” 

He took the singing-book from the teacher’s hand, 
and proceeded to make an awkward but correct copy 
of the inscription on the old tree, on one of the fly- 
leaves. 

“ There,” he said after a critical inspection of his 
work, as he handed the book back to Wayne, “that ’s 
/r^-cisely what I see him mark out on the tree, an’ I ’m 
willin’ to make affldavy to it any time.” 

“ It ’s more of a puzzle to me than anything else,” 
said Wayne, turning the book in all ways, and evidently 
failing to get any key as to its meaning. 

’Tis so,” responded Bill, who felt that he had en- 
listed a keener and cleverer brain than his own in an 
attempt to solve the mystery, and was content to let 
him puzzle his wits over it, while he looked on with an 
air of reticence that hinted at a deeper knowledge of 
the matter than he felt willing to divulge. 

“ You say that you can’t find that he was at anybody’s 
house on the night in which the horses were stolen — 
the night when you saw him going past your house ?” 

“ I ’ve took pains to ask ev’ry livin’ soul in the whole 
neighborhood, an’ he wa’n’t nowher’s,” replied Bill. 

“ And he denied being away from home on the night 
in question ?” 

“Wall, jest the same as denied it,” answered Bill. 
“He tried to make me b’leeve I was mistaken. I 
s’pose he dassen’t say right out that I lied, but he did 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


315 


just as nigh as he dared to. Now, I know I mis- 

taken, an’ he knows it.” 

“Well, what do you think about it ?” asked Wayne, 
apparently at a loss to know what to think himself. 

“ Gol durned ef I know what to think,” answered 
Bill. “ I never took any likin’ to Dick Brayton, but I 
snum, I never would ha’ b’leevedhe ’d got mixed up in 
hoss-stealin’, ef I hadn’t seen what it ’pears to me 
means suthin’ like that, ’s near ’s I can jedge. Don’t 
it look to you as ef sarcumstances kin’ o’ p’inted that 
way ?” 

“ To be frank with you, it does,” replied Wayne. 
“ But I wouldn’t care to say as much to anybody but 
you, because it is well understood that Brayton and 
myself are not on the best of terms, and they might 
think I was trying to injure him, because of my dislike 
for him. You have taken the matter in hand, and I 
advise you to go on with it. Keep your eyes open and 
see what happens. If your suspicions are correct, 
something will turn up to prove them so before long.” 

“ I ’ll keep my eyes skinned,” said Bill. 

And Bill was as good as his word. 

He lost no chance of creating suspicion against Dick 
by sly insinuations, which, in such cases, generally tell 
more effectively against a person than open asser- 
tions do. 

To some of his particular cronies he told the details 
of what he had seen in a manner that made his story 
not only a plausible but somewhat convincing one. 
With the minds of the settlers greatly excited by the 
recent occurrence, they were ready and eager to accept 
any clue or what seemed likely to prove a clue to a 
solution of the mystery surrounding the theft, even 
when their better judgment told them they were acting 
hastily and unwisely in forming an opinion on no more 


316 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


reliable evidence than that which Bill Green had to 
offer. At such times men do not stop to coolly and 
dispassionately weigh the testimony presented. If it 
bears the stamp of plausibility on the face of it, they 
seem to consider that enough to warrant them safe in 
accepting it in place of something better. 

“ Ah, my fine fellow, who ’s likely to come out 
ahead ?” chuckled Wayne, as Dick went by the house 
that afternoon. His face wore a look of intense satis- 
faction as his eyes followed the man whose mark his 
features still wore very plainly impressed on them. 
“ The game is mine,” he laughed, as Dick passed out 
of sight. “ I Ve got a whole handful of trumps, a full 
hand, so to speak.” 

That afternoon, a young man came from “down 
below ” to visit Dick. He was a harmless, inoffensive 
sort of fellow, and has nothing whatever to do with 
this story, except in so far as his coming to Browns- 
ville helped to increase the suspicion which Bill Green 
was creating against Dick Brayton. 

When Bill found out about the visitor, he had no 
scruples about hinting that it was his firm belief that 
he belonged to a gang of horse-thieves. 

“ He hain’t come up here for nothin’,” said Bill, 
with a wise look and a shake of his head. 

Coupled with the various suspicious circumstances 
surrounding Dick, Bill succeeded in making the visit 
appear as a link in the evidence against him in the 
minds of many with whom he talked. 

Strange as it may seem, Dick had no knowledge or 
suspicion of what was going on. Had he known what 
Bill was doing, it would doubtless have been quite un- 
healthy for that young man in the climate of Browns- 
ville, at that particular time. 

The young man from “ down below,” who would as 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


317 


soon have entertained the idea of turning cannibal as 
becoming a horse-thief, went home on Friday, and 
Dick accompanied him. He would take a “lay-off” 
till Monday. This was his first one since he began 
work for Mr. Boone, in the spring, and he felt as if he 
needed and had earned a resting-spell. 

“ Keep your eyes open while I 'm gone,” he told Sa- 
manthy. 

“ I will so,” replied that worthy damsel. “ I ’d giv' 
considerable to know what the singin’-teacher an’ Bill 
Green air figgerin’ on. Suthin’s up, I reckon. They 've 
got their heads together nigh about ev’ry day. Bill 
comes up here a-lookin’ as important as a turkey 
struttin’, an’ ev’ry time he sets his foot down he seems 
to be sayin’ : “ I ’m Bill Green, I be, an’ Bill Green, 
he ’s some punkins, he is !’ an’ it makes me laugh to 
see him swell up sometimes, when he says suthin’, jest 
like the ol’ turkey fer all the world, when he ’s gittin’ 
ready to gobble. He an’ hint air hatchin’ up suthii)’, 
an’ I know it, but I can’t make out what ’tis yit.” 

“ I don’t know what their consultations are about,” 
responded Dick, “ and what ’s more, I don’t care. I ’ve 
about as much contempt for one as the other. If it ’s 
about me, I ’m not afraid of the result. Neither of 
them is man enough to come to me to settle his grudge. 
Probably they are fixing up some sort of a scrape 
which they hope to get me into. If I don’t miss my 
guess, Wayne has got himself into a scrape that some 
day he ’ll wish he ’d kept out of.” 

“ Hev ye found out anything more sence what you 
was a-hintin’ to me t’ other day ?” asked Samanthy. 

“ Yes, a little,” answered Dick. “ I ’ve satisfied my- 
self that the pitch on his coat-sleeve came from the 
place I had in mind. That ’s all I ’ve found out or all 
t can explain about just now.” 


318 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


‘^I’ve found out suthin’,” said Samanthy, with a 
broad grin. “ There ’s goin’ to be a fallin’-out ’twixt 
some folks I know of.” 

D’ ye you mean Nannie and Wayne ?”queried Dick. 

“I do so,” answered Samanthy. “Nannie, she’s 
be’n a kinder gittin’ sick of him for quite a spell back, 
an’ ’{won’t be long afore there ’s a big flare-up.” 

“ Well, let it come,” said Dick, in no way displeased 
by the information. “ I didn’t think she was foolish 
enough to be deceived by him as long as she has. But, 
having begun her flirtation, or whatever she calls it, I 
suppose she felt bound to keep it up as long as possible. 
I thought she ’d get sick of him in time.” 

“ Gals can be awful fools when they set about it, an’ 
sometimes they don’t have to half try,” said Samanthy. 
“ I us’t to give Nance credit for more sense, but they 
say ev’rybody’s got a soft spot in their head, an’ I guess 
it ’s so.” 

“ If he falls out with Nannie, I suppose he ’ll concen- 
trate all his attentions on Rhoda,” said Dick. 

“ That puts me in mind o’ suthin’,” responded Sa- 
manthy. “ Rhody ’s sent fer me to come over. Her 
brother ’s sick, an’ she ’s afeard he ’s a-goin’ to hev a run 
o’ billyus-fever, an’ she wants me to come an’ help give 
him a hemlock sweat. I mus’ go right off, for Rhody 
don’t know no more ’bout takin’ keer o’ sick folks than 
that cat does.” 



CHAPTER XIV. 


AN UGLY SUSPICION. 

Sunday morning came and brought new fuel for the 
excitement which Bill, taking advantage of Dick’s ab- 
sence, had wrought up to fever-heat by artful insinua- 
tions and hints. 

Deacon Snyder’s horses were missing. 

The excitement, great as it had been before, was now 
intensified tenfold. 

When Averill’s horses had been taken, the fact that 
he lived so far away from Brownsville had seemed to 
take the matter out of the hands of Brownsville people, 
to a certain extent. 

Now the trouble had come home to them. This last 
theft was a Brownsville theft, pure and simple, and not 
one belonging to some outlying neighborhood. 

We are always much more deeply interested in what 
happens in our immediate vicinity than we are in what 
happens to our remote neighbors, and the tidings of 
the theft spread like wildfire and stirred everyone up 
as much as a declaration of immediate war with some 
foreign country would have done, if not a great deal 
more. 

Two hours after the horses were missed, a crowd had 
gathered at the deacon’s. 


[3 >9] 


320 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


It was a crowd with an intense purpose in it. 

That purpose was to bring the thief or thieves to 
justice — if he or they could be found ! 

And that justice was — the rope ! 

But the difficulty in the way was to find the thief or 
thieves on whom to administer justice. 

Wayne was among the crowd, listening to what was 
said, and watching the progress of events. 

Presently he called Bill aside. 

What do you think of your discovery on the tree 
now ?” he asked. 

“ Hain’t had time to think much about it to-day, the 
news took me so all of a sudden,” answered Bill. “ Why ? 
What makes ye ask the question ?” 

“ Make another copy of what you say you saw Bray- 
ton put on the tree,” said Wayne, handing Bill a piece 
of birch-bark that he picked up from the deacon’s chip- 
pile, and a pencil. 

Bill made a rough diagram on the bark and handed 
it back to Wayne. 

“ I think I have solved the puzzle,” said the singing- 
teacher. “ See here. We will lay this bark down with 
this side to the north. Here we have a cross, and in 
the northwest corner a dot, which stands for somethhig. 
Can you study out what that something is and what 
the cross means, Mr. Green ?” 

Bill bent all his energies to the task in hand. He 
stared hard at the bark for some minutes. 

At last — 

“ By the jumpin’ Jehosaphat, I du b’leeve I see what 
the gol durned thing means! That cross stan’s fer 
these here cross-roads, an’ that air spot means the 
deacon’s place, W’here we air now, an’ the whole thing 
is a kind o’ guide for somebody to go by. It told ’em 
where tu steal bosses nex’ time. Yes, sirree, that’s it 


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321 


It 's a kind o' map, so to speak, showin’ how the land 
lays, an’ them as it was meant fer understood it, you 
bet your bottom dollar. Here 's the very identical 
roads a-crossin' each other, an’ here 's the deacon’s 
place in the northwest corner ; but the figgerin’ I don’t 
jest see thru’. Du you ?” 

“ Not unless the figures stand in some way for mem- 
bers of the gang who are up to this kind of business,” 
replied Wayne. “You say that you saw Bray ton make 
the diagram on the tree. From that, one would 
naturally infer that he must be the ringleader. In that 
case the figure one, in this corner, may mean him. It 
may be a kind of signature, to his instructions to the 
others. The leader would mostlikely be Number One.” 

“ By crow, I hadn’t thought o’ that,” said Bill, 
scratching his head. “ I ’ll bet anything you ’ve hit 
the nail right squar’ on the head. I tell you that Dick 
Brayton’s a bad un an’ no mistake, but we ’ve got him 
cornered, I reckon.” 

“ I wouldn’t have taken him for a horse-thief,” said 
Wayne. “ I can’t believe it of him yet, and still — ” 

The break in his sentence implied that it was im- 
possible for him to believe anything else. 

“ No, nor I, nuther,” responded Bill, “but I tell you 
he ts one.” 

“ It certainy as if he were,” said Wayne, turn- 
ing away as if to put an end to the conversation in 
which he failed to take a great deal of interest. He 
was satisfied that he had said enough to set Bill going, 
and, that being done, he could keep in the background 
and let the other stir the matter up. 

“ What ’s up now ?” asked one of half a dozen men 
who had been trying to overhear the conversation 
taking place between Wayne and Bill, “ Suthin’ new 
in the wind, eh ?” 


322 


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Here was an opportunity for Bill to display himself 
to good advantage. He could cover himself with glory. 
He could stand forth before his neighbors, who had not 
heretofore had a very exalted opinion of him, as a hero 
in the detective line. 

“ See here, neighbors, I Ve got suthin’ to say to ye,” 
said Bill, mounting a stump. “ Draw ’round, all on ye.” 

By this time rumors that Bill had discovered some- 
thing very important, and was about to divulge it, were 
current, and the crowd surged about him, eager, ex- 
cited, anxious to know what it was that he had to tell. 

Bill was not what could be truthfully called a natu- 
ral orator. But it did not require that he should be, 
on this occasion, for the audience was already at a 
white-heat of excitement. 

He began by telling of having seen Brayton passing 
his father’s place some time after midnight on the 
night of the robbery at Averill’s. 

“ An’ there ’s some here as heerd me twit him of 
bein’ off summers that night,” said Bill, “ an’ they 
heerd him deny it, too, or try to, anyhow. Ain’t that 
so, J osh Balcomb ?” 

Mr. Balcomb, thus being called on, admitted that he 
had been a witness of the conversatien to which Bill 
alluded. 

“ I thought so,” said Bill. “ I don’t want nobody to 
take my word fer it alone.” 

Then he went on to tell of his following Dick into 
the woods, and of seeing him at work at something by 
the old cottonwood, and of the discovery he had made 
there, after Dick had taken his departure from the 
place. 

“ Here ’s the thing, jest precisely as you ’ll find it 
there now, ’less somebody ’s meddled with it sense I 
see it,” he said, holding up the piece of birch-bark on 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


323 


which he had made a diagram of the marks on the 
tree, at Wayne’s request. “You see these lines a- 
crossin’ each other, don’t ye? Wall, me an’ Mr. 
Wayne, we ’ve studied it out like this : These here 
lines a-crossin’ each other, they stan’ fer these here 
crossroads. This here spot, it stand’s fer the very 
identical place where we air now — Deacon Snyder’s 
farm, in the northwes’ corner o’ the crossroads. An’ 
these here figgers, we take ’em to mean some o’ the 
gang o’ hoss-thieves, an’ we b’leeve Dick Brayton ’s at 
the head of it, we do so ; an’ this contrivance is a 
kind o’ map fer the rest on ’em to go by. What du 
fu think about it, neighbors ?” 

The crowd about the stump was ominously quiet for 
a moment. Then the spell was broken by some one 
calling out : 

“ You say you see Dick Brayton make that on the tree?” 

“I did so,” answered Bill, solemnly. “I see him 
make that on the tree.” 

Let me do him the justice to say again that I think 
he was honest when he made this statement. He 
believed that Dick had left the diagram on the cotton- 
wood, and that he had seen him making it there. 

“ Then Dick Brayton ’s a hoss-thief,” the man said, 
with a grim decision that told his mind was fully made 
up regarding the matter. “ Sarcumstances show him 
to be jest that, ’cordin’ to Bill Green’s story, an’ I 
reckon Bill wouldn’t lie ’bout sich things.” 

“ Yer jest right there, neighbor,” said Bill. 

“ Speak out, neighbors, an’ let ’s hear what the rest 
of ye hev tu say about it,” said the man who had pro- 
fessed his belief in Dick’s guilt. 

Though there was not a great deal of “speaking 
out,” it was quite evident that most of the crowd in- 
dorsed his opinion. 


324 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


But Dick had some friends left. 

Both Mr. Boone and Mr. Porter were strong and 
earnest in their protestations of belief in his innocence. 

‘‘ Hain’t I had a chance to know suthin’ about the 
boy, seein’ *s he 's worked for me, right along, sence 
he come to Brownsville ?” demanded Mr. Boone. “ I 
tell you what it is, neighbors : Dick Brayton didn't 
steal them bosses no more 'n I did or you did. I 
wouldn’t be a bit more s’prised ef you 'd laid it onto 
me.” 

“ How do you explain things, then ?” asked Bill, re- 
senting Mr. Boone’s championing of Dick as a personal 
affront. 

‘‘ I don’t pertend to explain ’em,” answered Mr. 
Boone. ‘‘ I perpose to let Dick do that himself. Give 
him a chance, an’ I ’ll warrant ye he ’ll satisfy ye he 
hain’t no hoss-thief.” 

At this juncture, a man who had been looking the 
barn over with the hope of discovering some clue, 
came up with the air of having made a discovery 
which he considered of some importance. 

“ Does any one know whose knife this is ?” he asked, 
holding up a large, bone-handled pocket-knife for iden- 
tification. 

Mr. Boone turned pale and looked at Mr. Porter with 
alarm expressed in his face. 

For he recognized the knife as Dick’s. 

I know the knife an’ could sw’ar to it anywheres,” 
spoke up a young man, crowding toward the possessor 
of the article under consideration. It ’s Dick Bray- 
ton’s knife. I swapped it to him fer this one,” display- 
ing a knife which he took from his pocket. “ To prove 
to ye that I know all about that knife ’thout lookin’ at 
it, jest you look at the small blade an’ see ef there 
hain’t a crack in it, dost down to the rivet,” 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


335 


** Yer right — there is,” said the man who held the 
knife, after looking it over. “ Here 's the crack, neigh- 
bors, jest as he said.” 

“ Where did ye find the knife ?” asked Bill Green. 

“ I found it in the straw nigh the manger where the 
hoss stood whose halter was cut,” was the reply. 

Such was the excitement of the crowd at that mo- 
ment that, had Dick Brayton been there, he would 
doubtless have been strung up to the nearest tree with- 
out the farce of a trial. 

At length a plan of search was decided on and the 
crowd dispersed in different directions. 

The night had been rainy, like the night when Aver- 
ill’s horses had been stolen, and it was impossible to 
tell definitely in what direction the missing horses had 
been taken. 

‘‘ It 's blind work,” said Mr. Stevens, “ but we can’t 
Stan* roun’ an’ do nothin’. Ef we keep a-huntin’ we 
may find suthin’ that ’ll help us out o’ the quand’ry.” 

‘‘ It seems strange to me that they are able to con- 
ceal all traces of their coming and going so completely,” 
said Wayne. “ I think I heard some of you say that in 
the Averill case not a single clue was found by which 
you could tell in what direction they went even.” 

“Not a one,” answered Mr. Porter. “ It ts curi’s, as 
you say. The rain helps ’em, but it does seem as ef 
there orter be suthin left fer us to ketch on to. Seems 
as ef we hunted everywhere for the Averill bosses, an’ 
we knowed no more about ’em when we got thr’u’ 
huntin’ than we did when we begun.” 

“ Do you think Brayton had anything to do with it ?” 
asked Wayne. 

“No, sir-ee, I don't” answered Mr. Porter, with an 
emphasis that left no doubt of his belief in the inno- 
cence of Dick Brayton. 


32G 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


“ But the knife and the writing that Bill Green says 
he saw him make on the tree — how do you explain 
those things ?” 

“ I don’t explain ’em,” replied Mr. Porter, looking as 
if he wished he could do so. “ But I don’t b’leeve Dick 
Brayton stole them bosses.” 

“ Nor I, nuther,” said Samanthy, that night at the 
supper-table, when the matter came up for considera- 
tion. “ Nobody need tell me that Dick Brayton ’s took 
to stealin’ bosses fer a livin’.” 

It seems to me that you are quite a champion of 
his,” said Wayne, with a sarcastic smile. 

“ I dunno ’ it ’s anybody’s bisness ef I be,” responded 
Samanthy. “ I know you wouldn’t stick up fer him. 
His mark .shows ’twixt yer eyes now onct in a while, 
where he left his opinyun o" you in black an’ blue.” 

“ I ’d thank you to mind your own business,” said 
Wayne, angrily. 

“ Sho, now — would ye ?” replied Samanthy, provok- 
ingly ; I ruther reckon I ’ll do jest about as I take a 
notion to about it. I hain’t the least idee o’ bein’ 
bossed ’round by you, ef you do come from down below, 
an’ air fust cousin to the Lord, ’cordin’ to yer opinyun 
o’ yerself. I ’d a ’nough sight sooner think you We the 
hoss-thief that ’s makin’ all this how-de-low ’round these 
parts than Dick Brayton. I would so !” 

Wayne looked at her sharply and suspiciously. 

Samanthy stood the scrutiny bravely. 

Have ye got any more pitch on yer sleeve, or hain’t 
ye be’n where the pitch is, sence ?” she asked, as 
Wayne turned away. I wouldn’t be a great sight 
s’prised ef ye went where they keep kittles o’ pitch 
b’ilin’ hot all the time one o’ these days.” 

With which parting shot she made her retreat to the 
kitchen. 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


327 


That afternoon the coolness which had existed for 
some days between Nannie and the singing-teacher cul- 
minated in open hostilities on Nannie’s part. 

Wayne made some sneering remark about Dick in 
the roll of horse-thief. The reaction which had been 
setting in in Nannie’s mind for some time disposed 
her to think remorsefully of poor Dick and her treat- 
ment of him, and when she heard of the suspicions 
afloat regarding him, she took up weapons in his de- 
fense at once. The result was that, when Mr. Wayne took 
his departure that afternoon, she gave him to understand 
in very plain terms, that he need not take the trouble 
to call again. 

“ Dick Brayton a horse-thief !” she said to herself 
indignantly. The idea !” 

But the thought troubled her, and as soon as her 
father came home she began to talk about it. 

“ Do you mean to say, father, that anybody believes 
a word of it ? It can’t be ! Nobody but a fool would 
think of such a thing twice.” 

But some folks that can’t be called fools re- 
plied her father ’Tain’t no use to mince matters. 
We ’ve got to look things squar’ in the face. We ’ve 
got to own up that what Bill Green says he see does 
look bad ag’in the boy. I don’t know what to think, 
myself. I don’t b’leeve he stole the bosses, but I can’t 
deny that ’twas his knife they found in the deacon’s 
barn. It ’s bad, mighty bad, all ’round.” 

“ I wish Dick ’d come back,” said Nannie. “ If he ’d 
only come back and explain things, now — ” 

“I dunno as I want him to come back,” said Mr. 
Boone, with a troubled look in his face. 

“ Why ?” asked Nannie. 

Mebbe he ’s safer where he is jest at this pertickler 
time,” answered Mr. Boone. 


328 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


“ You don’t think they ’d dare to do anything to him, 
do you ?” asked Nannie, with a startled look. 

She was just beginning to realize the gravity of the 
situation. 

“ Yes, I do,” was her father’s reply. ’Most every- 
body ’round here thinks he ’s guilty. An’ you know 
how they deal with hoss-thieves. That ’s why I say 
that mebbe he ’s safer where he is, jest now.” 

At that Nannie turned very pale and ran out of the 
room, saying to herself : “ Poor Dick in such awful 
danger, and I used him so meanly ! Oh, dear ! Oh, 
dear !” 

Then she sat down on the step of the woodshed and 
threw her apron over her head and began to cry* 




CHAPTER XV. 

CAPTURE AND IMPRISONMENT FOR DICK. 

On Monday night Dick came back from “ down be- 
low,” little dreaming of what had taken place during 
his absence. 

On his way to Mr. Boone’s he met several men. 

It was about nine o’clock, and so dark that he did not 
recognize any of them. 

But they recognized him. 

They halted shortly after they passed him and held 
a hurried consultation. 

Then they turned and followed him. 

Hello !” called out one of them as they came near 
him. 

Dick knew the voice. It was Bill Green’s. 

“ Hello, yourself,” responded Dick, stopping for them 
to come up. “ What ’s wanted ?” 

“ I reckon you be,” answered Bill, as they came up 
to where he stood. We ’ve been wantin’ to see ye, 
bad, ever sence day afore yestid’y.” 

Well, here I am ; what do you want of me ?” asked 
Dick, scenting trouble in the air. 

“ Wall, there hain’t no use o’ wastin' words an’ time, 

[329] 



330 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


's I know on," said Bill, with a nervous sound in his 
voice. The truth was that he would have been very 
glad to shift this part of the business upon some one 
else, but the others had insisted that he was the man 
to do the talking, and as he had them to back him, he 
felt a thousandfold braver than he would if alone. In- 
deed, if he had been alone, he wouldn’t have dared to 
say anything to Dick. Talking about horse-thieves was 
an entirely different thing from talking to them. But 
he felt obliged to go on, and blurted out in desperation 
that sounded almost like bravery : *^It ’s jest like this, 
Dick Brayton ; we Ve found ye out at last, an’ I reckon 
ye won’t steal no more bosses 'round these diggin’s.’’ 

What do you mean ?’’ cried Dick, with flashing 
eyes. See here, Mr. Bill Green, that may be a sharp 
joke in your opinion, but it ’s my opinion that you ’ve 
gone a little too far. I don’t appreciate such jokes.’’ 

Don’t, hey ?’’ said Bill, waxing a trifle more cour- 
ageous as the men crowded around him. “Wall, I 
dunno as I wonder much. I s’pose it ain’t any laughin’ 
matter.’’ 

“ I don’t know what you mean,’’ said Dick. “ But I 
do know this : Neither you nor any one else can call 
me a horse-thief and not get hurt.’’ 

“ I dunno about that,’’ said Bill, feeling tolerably 
safe as he looked at the four men beside him. “ I 
wa’ n’t jokin’, an’ you know it as well as I do, I reckon. 
I meant jest what I said. ’Tain’t no kind o’ use in yer 
tryin’ to play off. I see you write that mess o’ stuff on 
the ol’ cottonwood-tree, an’ we ’ve found out what most 
of it stood for now.’’ 

“ If you say you saw me make a mark on the cotton- 
wood-tree, you lie,’’ cried Dick. He did not stop to con- 
sider the lack of politeness in the words, but said just 
what he meant. 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


331 


“ What ’s that ?” cried Bill, really astonished at Dick’s 
effrontery in denying the charge. “ Do you have the 
brass to say you didn't write that stuff on the tree when 
1 tell ye that I foll’ed ye that night an' was hid behind 
some bushes, an’ see you to work at the tree, scratchin* 
matches to see to do it by, an’ went an’ read it arter 
you had gone ? Do you deny it when I tell ye all that, 
hey ?” 

“ I do deny just that,” answered Dick, beginning to 
understand that there was trouble in store. You 
may have followed me to the tree. I don’t deny that 
I went there. But that you saw me write a word or 
make a mark on that tree I do deny. That ’s all there 
is about that. Bill Green. And if you say I did, you ’re 
a liar !” 

“ Now see here,” said Bill, after taking a look to see 
that his backers were ready for action in case of emer- 
gency. “ ’Tain’t no kind o’ use fer ye to play up inner- 
cent an’ think ye ’r’ goin’ to git off by brassin’ it out. 
I know what I see. If you hadn’t nothin’ to do with 
stealin’ bosses, what was ye there fer, I ’d like tu 
know ?” 

“ I went there because I took the notion into my 
head to do so,” answered Dick. “ In other words, it ’s 
none of your business what I was there for.” 

“ We ’ll make it some of our bisness afore we git 
thr’u’ with ye,” said Bill, grimly. “Don’t ye forgit 
that, Dick Brayton ! An’ that ain’t all, nuther. We ’ve 
found the jack-knife ye lost when ye cut ol’ Deacon 
Snyder’s halter-strap. Likely story ’bout yer goin’ 
down b’low, wa’ n’t it ? We ain’t so gol-durned green 
we can’t tell a hoss-thief — ” 

What the remainder of the sentence was to be no 
one will ever know. Bill’s eloquence was cut short by 
a sledge-hammer blow between the eyes, and he turn- 


332 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


bled over into a mud-puddle in a most summary and 
limp fashion. 

** Grab him, fellers,” cried one of the men, ‘‘ an’ be 
quick about it, or he ’ll give us the slip !” 

One of them sprang at Dick, who was entirely un- 
prepared for the general attack- which followed. 

The first man he fiung aside. The others at that 
instant caught him about the body and by the arms, 
and in spite of his desperate efforts to get loose, he 
was soon overpowered. One of the men had a stout 
cord tied about his waist. This he wound about Dick’s 
wrists, while the others held him. 

Dick was their prisoner. 

“ I ’d like to know what you mean by this !” he cried, 
with blazing eyes. “ Ah, but you ’re a brave lot ! 
Five to one ! Untie my hands, and I ’ll fight all of 
you, you cowards ! Wait till I get loose, and I ’ll 
make it warm for you !” 

“Yes, wait till you get loose,” responded one of 
them, meaningly. 

“ See here, men !” said Dick, trying to smother his 
wrath sufficiently to gain a knowledge of the situation. 
“ Do you pretend to say that you take me for a horse- 
thief?” 

“We do so,” answered the man who had tied the 
rope around his wrists. “Ye see yer found out.” 

“ What ’s ‘ found out ?’ ” 

“What’s the use o’ askin’ sich foolish questions? 
You know jest as well as we do. We ’ve found out 
the truths an’ that's what ’s found out. You ’ve had 
your fun, an’ now I reckon we ’re a-goin’ to hev 
our’n.” 

Dick felt himself turning pale. 

He began to realize at last that there was no “joke ” 
about it. 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


333 


Bill had struggled to his feet by this time, and was 
wiping off the mud and blood with which his face was 
pretty 'well covered. 

“ Cuss ye, Dick Brayton !” he cried, shaking his fist 
in Dick's face, all his evil passions aroused and showing 
themselves in his sinister eyes. “You’ve struck yer 
last blow, gol durn ye ! Ef I didn’t know they ’d hang 
ye, I vum I’d pummel the life out o’ ye !” 

“ Try it,” said Dick, contemptuously. “ My hands 
are tied. You ’re safe.” 

The men withdrew to a little distance and held a 
hurried consultation. 

It was decided to take the prisoner to Mr. Porter’s. 

“ You an’ John go ’round an’ drum up the men-folks,” 
ordered Bill. “ Be lively, now. We ’ll see thet he don’t 
steal any more bosses while yer gone,” he added, with 
a brutal laugh. 

Dick’s brain was in a muddle. He could not realize 
the true condition of affairs. He felt as if he must be 
in some strange kind of waking dream. 

“ Explain it all, please,” he said to one of the men, 
who had had less to say than the others. “ As true as 
I stand here, I don't know what you mean by this.” 

“ Wait, an’ ye ’ll hev it explained to ye soon enough,” 
said Bill, “ You needn’t try to soft-sodder us. Step 
off, now, an’ don’t try to git away, or it ’ll go hard with 
ye.” 

At Mr. Porter’s he might be able to secure an expla- 
nation of the matter. He walked on in advance of the 
men silently. In a short time they reached their des- 
tination. 

“ Good Lord !” cried Mr. Porter, when he fully com- 
prehended the state of affairs. “ I ’m sorry to see you 
in this fix, Dick, I be so.” 

“ For pity’s sake, tell me what it means !” said Dick. 


334 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


“ These men refuse to do so. I get the idea, from what 
they have said, that I am believed to be a horse-thief. 
Tell me the truth, Mr. Porter. Is it so ?’' 

“ I ’m afraid it is,” answered Mr. Porter. 

He sat down and told Dick all that had happened 
since he went away. 

“ So help me God, I ’m innocent,” said Dick, solemnly, 
looking unflinchingly in Mr. Porter’s face as he 
made the assertion. “ I 'm as innocent as you are. I 
never made a mark on the cottonwood-tree, and Bill 
Green lied when he said so. I went there that night, 
and I read what there was to read — what Bill Green 
probably read after I came away ; but I made not one 
mark there, and that ’s the truth. As to the knife, I 
lost it over a week ago — where, I haven’t any idea. 
That ’s the truth about that^ Mr. Porter. I hope you 
don’t believe that I ’m guilty of the crime I ’m charged 
with ?” 

“No, I don’t,” answered Mr. Porter, stoutly. “ But 
there ’s them as does, Dick, an’ plenty on ’em, too, I ’m 
sorry to say. I tell ye, ye ’re in a tight place, Dick, an’ 
there ’s no use in denyin’ it. I wish I could git ye out 
of it.” 

Dick had it on his tongue to give vent to his suspi- 
cions of Wayne, but Mr. Porter was called away just 
then, and he made up his mind, on second thought, 
that it was better to say nothing about them at pres- 
ent. He could prove nothing. That was the difficulty. 
With the opinion of nearly every one against him, it 
might damage his case to attempt to excite suspicion 
against any one else. The question would be asked, at 
once, very likely : Why had he not said something 
about these suspicions before ? 

Why, indeed ! 

If he had only taken Mr. Boone into his confidence ! 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


335 


If he had only told Mr. Porter ! If — But the “ ifs ” 
in the way were not to be got rid of now. The trap he 
had hoped another might be caught in was sprung upon 
himself. 

The only consoling thought about it was that he was 
innocent. There was a good deal of personal satisfac- 
tion in that, but it did not help him to see his way out 
of the very unpleasant and dangerous position he 
was in. 

A crowd began to assemble within a short time after 
his arrival. 

The excitement was intense. His presence seemed 
to increase it. 

He could hear muttered threats from those whom 
he had considered warm friends. He met stern and 
pitiless faces when he looked about in search of sym- 
pathy. 

At length, a feeling of anger, arising from a sense 
of the cruel injustice shown him by a refusal to listen 
to anything he attempted to say in vindication of 
himself, led him to ignore the crowd as much as pos- 
sible. He shut his eyes upon it and tried to think 
what the result was to be, and thinking of that made 
him sick at heart. 

For he knew enough of the frontier and its ways 
to know that it was easily swayed by impulse but not 
by cool-headed reason and judgment. It was a dan- 
gerous thing to face when wrought up to such a pitch 
of excitement as had possession of it now. 

“ See here, neighbors,” he heard a familiar voice 
saying, presently, ‘'it 's late. We can’t do anything 
to-night. We ’re all beat out, and need rest. Besides, 
we ’re excited, an’ we ain’t fit to give him an onprej- 
udiced trial. I take it, neighbors, that we ’re all willin' 
to give him a fair chance. It would be an onjustice 


336 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


to go rash. Let ’s wait till mornin’. What d* ye 
say ?” 

Some agreed readily to the proposal, while others 
objected, saying that horse-thieves didn’t need a trial. 
Hanging was what they needed. 

It was finally decided that he should be put in some 
safe place and kept there till morning. 

At eight o’clock he was to be tried on the charge of 
stealing horses. Could it be true, or was he in the 
midst of a horrible dream ? 

Then the question arose of where he should be put 
overnight. 

In the milk-house,” whispered Samanthy to Mr. 
Porter, with a meaning wink. There ain’t but one 
winder to the place, an’ you c’n show ’em that he can’t 
git out of it ; an’ they c'n set men to watch outside ef 
they ’re afeard o’ his gittin’ out o’ the door. No hoss- 
thief c’n git out o’ that place ’thout somebody’s knowin’ 
it.” 

Mr. Porter understood Samanthy without asking an 
explanation, and acted on her advice. 

“ I reckon the milk-house is the place for him,” he 
told the men. ‘‘Ye see, ye can put men all ’round it, 
bein’ it ’s seprit from the house.” 

“An’ I ’ll resk anybody’s diggin’ thr’u’ them walls 
'thout bein’ watched,” said Samanthy. “ Per ’s I ’m 
consarned, I want justice done, an’ the only way we 
can do it is to keep the pris’ner so ’s it can be did to 
him when the proper time comes fer it. I hain’t no 
kind o’ patience with hoss-thieves, an’ never had, an’ 
when you ketch one an’ know he ’s guilty, hang him, I 
say.” 

This to Bill Green, who stood in awe of Samanthy, 
and consequently had a great regard for her opinion, 
as she very well knew. 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


337 


That ’s the talk,” responded Bill. “ Hang ’em, / 
say, too.” 

“ I never ’d ’a’ b’leeved you ’d a-turned hoss-thief,” 
said Samanthy, coming up to where Dick sat, with her 
face full of contempt and lofty indignation. “I de- 
clare, I sha’n't hev no confidence left in nobody a’ter 
this. It 's an awful deceitful, wicked world, when one 
can't feel sartin but his best friend ’ll go to cuttin’ up 
all manner o' wickedness the minnit his back 's turned.” 

Under ordinary circumstances Samanthy’s condemna- 
tion of him ought to have troubled Dick, but for some 
reason it failed to do so. 

He was taken to the milk-house and fastened in se- 
curely. To make assurance doubly sure, a guard was 
stationed outside his prison walls. 

** He 's safe enough there,” said Bill Green, after he 
had given the place a close inspection. “ There hain’t 
no chance o’ his gittin’ out till w^e see fit to let him out.” 

“ Hain’t, hey ? We ’ll see about that !” chuckled 
Samanthy to herself. 

At last silence fell upon the scene. 

But to more than one beneath Mr. Porter’s roof sleep 
did not come that night. 




CHAPTER XVI. 

ESCAPED ! 

As may readily be imagined, Dick felt little like 
sleeping after the exciting events of the past few hours. 

He sat alone in the semi-darkness of the little room 
in which he was confined, listening to the tramp of 
men outside and now and then the sound of voices. 

Then these sounds died out, and he seemed to be the 
only waking thing left in existence. 

Waking ? He felt as if he could never .sleep again. 
Until he was left by himself, and the confused hubbub 
of angry and excited voices had been smothered by 
his prison-walls, he had been unable to think coher- 
ently. True, he had had a vague sense of his danger, 
but he had not realized it in all its terrible clearness. 

But now, in the silence of the milk-house, it came 
home to him. 

In the morning he was to be tried for a crime the 
penalty of which was death in the settlers’ code of 
justice. 

But would they find him guilty ? 

1338] 



THE SWAMP SECRKT. 


339 


Taking the evidence against him into consideration 
could there be any doubt of what the verdict would be ? 
None at all. 

But if they 'll give me half a chance, I can prove 
my innocence,” he thought. “I can prove where I 
was at the time of the last theft. But I doubt if they ’ll 
give me the chance. I can’t explain about the knife, 
and Bill Green’s story about seeing me making inscrip- 
tions on the cottonwood will tell against me. I ’m in 
hard luck. If I could only get out of this !” he cried, 
starting up and looking about him, in sudden despera- 
tion. “ I ca7i't stay here to be taken out and hung like 
a dog who has been caught stealing sheep.” 

He went to the window and looked out into the 
murky gloom of the night. 

There was no chance of escape in that direction. 

He turned his attention to the door. It was a solid 
one, of oak. 

“ I am getting foolish,” he said, making his way back 
through the darkness in the room to the block on 
which he had been sitting. “ If I could get through 
the door, I couldn’t get away, because half a dozen men 
are watching outside. There ’s no use in trying to get 
away. I have got to wait for the morning, and take 
the chances of what may happen. I wonder what Nan- 
nie thinks of it.” 

Poor Nannie ! 

At that very moment she was wetting her pillow with 
remorseful tears. 

“ Oh, they ’ll hang him !” she kept saying over and 
over to herself. “ I know they will ! And I know he ’s 
innocent, and I shall never see him again to tell him 
how sorry I am for using him as I have. Poor Dick ! 
Poor Dick ! And I did love him, after all !” 

So Nannie, like other wrongdoers, was obliged to 


340 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


suffer the pangs of remorse and self-condemnation 
when they were unavailing. 

The long and lonesome hours of that miserable night 
wore slowly away. 

** It must be one o’clock,’* thought Dick, as he paced 
up and down the puncheon floor of his prison. 

A sound that seemed to come from under his feet 
startled him. 

It was a gentle knocking, so faint as to be almost 
unnoticeable, but it was repeated at regular intervals, 
and he knew that behind that sound was some agency 
which desired to attract his attention. 

He got down on the floor and listened very atten- 
tively. 

Tap, tap, tap, again. 

He rapped softly on the floor over the spot from 
which the sound came. 

Presently a portion of the floor began to rise. 

“ A trap-door,” thought Dick, with a wild hope of 
possible escape flashing through his still bewildered and 
befogged brain. “ I must have some friends yet, and 
it is evident that they are trying to come to my 
aid.” 

The trap in the floor was tilted enough by this time 
to allow a head to protrude through the opening. 

“ Sh !” said a voice which he had no difficulty in 
recognizing as Samanthy’s. “ Keep quiet. There ’s 
sharp ears outside. Ef ye want to git out o’ this diffi- 
culty, ye ’ve got to be awful still about it.” 

“ How did you contrive to get here ?” whispered Dick. 

“ There ’s an underground way ’twixt this an’ the 
house that we use in winter, from the suller,” answered 
Samanthy. ‘‘ I wa’n’t goin’ to say nothin’ about it 
when they was a-talkin’ about this bein’ a safe place, 
’cause ef I had ’twould a-kinder sp’ilt my plan, ye see,” 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


341 


“ Have you got a plan to get me out of this ?” asked 
Dick. 

“ I reckon,” responded Samanthy. Leastwise, it 's 
a plan ef it can be made to work. Ef it don’t, it 's a 
failure. But ’twon’t do fer us to be wastin’ time. 
You ’ve got to be makin' tracks fer some place where 
they don’t take honest men for hoss-thieves, an’ the 
sooner yer about it the better for ye, I calkilate.” 

“ Do you advise me to run away ?” asked Dick, to 
whom the thought of escape by flight seemed almost 
cowardly, now that a possible chance of getting away 
presented itself. 

Of course I do,” responded Samanthy. “ I reckon 
I wouldn’t stay an* let ’em string me up ef I could 
help it.” 

“ But if I get away an’ leave the place they ’ll be 
sure to accept it as a proof of guilt,” said Dick. 

“ Wall, let ’em,” said Samanthy. They think that 
now, so ’t ain’t goin’ to make no difference as I see, one 
way or t’other. You ’d be a fool not to go. Ef you stay 
they ’ll hang you as sartin as your name ’s Dick 
Brayton. Ef you light out an’ keep clear o’ these 
diggin’s a spell they may find out who the real hoss- 
thief is, an’ then ’twill be time enough to show up 
hereabouts.” 

“ I think you ’re right,” said Dick. “ Staying here 
would not help me to prove my innocence if they ’re 
not disposed to give a fellow a fair chance. I ’d rather 
face the music, but it wouldn’t make hanging any 
pleasanter because facing the music seemed a braver 
thing than running away. I ’ll take your advice, 
Samanthy, that is, if I can. I don’t know how you 
propose to get me away from this place.” 

“ Poller me an’ go like a cat,” said Samanthy. 

He let himself down through the trap-door. A 


342 


JTHE SWAMP SECRET. 


ladder led to the bottom of the passage between the 
milk-house and the cellar. 

In the cellar they paused a moment. 

“I want to know exactly what the charges against 
me are," he said. “ I was so bewildered by all that 
happened that I don’t know whether I comprehend 
everything clearly yet or not." 

Samanthy detailed the facts of the case as succinctly 
as possible. 

“It looks dark against me, doesn’t it?" said Dick. 
“ But I ’m innocent, and I mean that everybody shall 
know it, some day— that is, if I get away and live long 
enough to have the opportunity to work up the 
matter and bring the guilty party to justice. I told 
you a little, or rather I hinted at part I had found out, 
the other day. I want to tell you all about it now, for 
it may possibly be the means of your helping me." 

Dick told her in as few words as possible what he 
had discovered and what he suspected. 

“ I wouldn’t wonder the least bit if you was right," 
she said. “ I ’ll keep my eyes open an’ see ef I can’t 
see suthin’." 

“ I shall not leave the neighborhood," said Dick. 
“ I can take care of myself in the woods, and I mean 
to stay and watch my man. Who the other members 
of the gang are and where they stay I don’t know, but 
I mean to find out before long if there ’s anything to 
be gained by making a business of playing detective. 
I want you to go over to Mr. Boone’s to-morrow and 
smuggle my gun out of the house, with all the ammu- 
nition there is, and put it in the hollow tree down by 
the pasture bars, after dark. I ’ll venture out when I 
think it ’s safe to do so and get it." 

“ An’ I ’ll see that there ’s suthin’ to eat left there, 
reg’lar," said Samanthy. “Ye ’ll hev to be awful keer- 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


343 


ful or they ’ll run onto ye when they 're trampin' 
'round through the woods a-huntin' hoss-thieves an' 
bosses." 

“ I '11 look out for them," said Dick. 

‘‘Wall, ef ye 'r' ready, ye 'd better be movin’," said 
Samanthy. “ I 'm goin’ to let ye out o’ the house by 
the butt’ry winder. From the west side o’ the house 
it 's clear sailin’ to the cornfield, an’ ef ye can git there 
'thout bein’ seen, ye 'r' all right.” 

Dick followed her up the stairs leading from the 
cellar to the kitchen. 

“ Here 's a bite to eat," she said, handing him a 
luncheon tied up in a cloth. “ I tho’t, p’r’aps, ye 
mought be hungry, so I got it reddy for ye. Now go, 
an’ take keer o’ yerself." 

Dick wrung her hand. 

“ You 've done me a good turn, Samanthy,” he said. 
“ However it turns out, I thank you for your kindness. 
I — I wish you 'd tell Nanniethat I hope she don’t believe 
me guilty.” 

“I know she don’t," said Samanthy. “She feels 
awful about ye. Cries an’ takes on, the wust way, an’ 
blames herself like ev’rything. But do be goin’. I git 
more narv’us ev’ry single minnit. I sha’n’t draw a 
decent breath till I think ye’ve got to the cornfield." 

She lifted the pantry window noiselessly, and Dick 
crawled through it and dropped lightly to the ground. 

She watched him make his way to the garden-fence, 
where he was lost in the shadows of night. 

She stood by the window and waited for some 
minutes. Nothing happened. 

“There, thank the Lord, he ’s safe fer a spell, I 
reckon !" she exclaimed, drawing a breath of relief. 
“ Wonder what they ’ll say in the mornin’, when they 
go to hang him an’ find he 's missin’ 


344 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


Then she went back to bed ; but the excitement of 
the nig^ht would not allow her to sleep. Visions of 
escaping men came to her, followed by visions of men 
dangling from a rope, then she would start up from 
the doze into which she had fallen only to fall into 
another doze, in which the same sights were repeated. 

I hain’t rested much,” she said, with a grim smile 
when daylight came. 




CHAPTER XVII. 

A POSTPONED HANGING. 

Morning broke. 

With the first streak of red in the east, the men who 
had been on guard were stirring; 

One of them came to the door of the milk-house and 
listened. 

“ I reckon he 's asleep,’* he reported. ** Anyway he 
ain’t a-movin’ ’round.” 

‘‘ Wall, let him have his snooze out,” said Bill Green. 
“ It ’s prob’ly the last one he ’ll enjoy fer a right-smart 
spell.” 

As soon as it was fully light men began to arrive. 

They came from all parts of the settlement, and be- 
fore eight o’clock the entire male portion of the neigh- 
borhood was on hand. 

It was evident from the stern and resolute look on 
the faces of most of them and the determined air which 
characterized them that they felt that something of 
grave and weighty import was about to be done. 

“ Wall, it ’s eight o’clock,” announced Bill. “ Sh’ll 
we proceed to business ?” 

How ’re we goin’ to git at it ?” asked some one. 

“ Why, at it an’ du it, same ’s ye would any job 
ye ’d got on hand,” answered Bill. There hain’t no 

[345] 


346 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


sense in standin* ’round an’ askin’ how a thing is got to 
be did. That ’ll never du it. Git right down tu busi- 
ness an’ it won’t take long.” 

“ Well, then, fetch out the pris’ner an’ le’ ’s hear 
what he ’s got to say fer himself,” said Deacon Snyder. 

” That ’s the talk,” said Mr. Balcomb. “ Let ’s hear 
his story, fust of all.” 

” Yes, trot him out,” chuckled Samanthy, who was 
an interested spectator and listener. “ Trot him right 
out. I ’m jest achin’ to see ye do it.” 

Bill Green, as master of ceremonies, unlocked the 
door of the milk-house. 

“ Come out o’ that,” he called out, in a tone that was 
meant to convey terror to the occupant of the milk- 
house. 

Hearing it and watching the way in which Bill 
swelled up like a turkey-gobbler as he delivered his 
order, Samanthy chuckled all over. 

No reply came from the milk-house and no person 
emerged therefrom. 

“ P’r’aps he ’s asleep yet,” some one in the crowd 
suggested. “ Holler an’ wake him up. Bill.” 

Samanthy’s amusement increased. 

Bill put his head in at the door very cautiously and 
looked around the room. 

“He aint here !” he cried in dismay. “ He ’s gin us 
the slip, fellers, as sures ye live !” 

“ I could ha’ told ye that a considerable spell ago ef 
I ’d felt like it,” chuckled Samanthy from her post of 
observation by the pantry window. “ He ’s gone, sure 
enough. Bill Green, an’ I reckon ye won’t git yer 
clutches on him right away, nuther.” 

The excited and incredulous crowd made a rush for 
the door to see for themselves if Bill Green’s statement 
was true. It hardly seemed possible that their prisoner 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


347 


could have eluded them after getting- out of the milk- 
house, to say nothing of getting out of it. 

But an inspection of the room satisfied them that it 
was empty. The bird had flown. 

“ Who could have helped the critter to get away ?” 
cried Bill, black with rage and disappointment. “ I 
tell ye what, there ’s been some underhand doin’s 
summers, an’ nobody need tell me there hain’t. Ef we 
c’d only find out who ’t was, 1 reckon we ’d make it 
mighty interestin’ fer him. I do so !” 

“ But the trouble is, how ’re ye goin’ to find out ?” 
chuckled the delighted Samanthy, to whom the sight 
of Bill’s wrath was a pleasure too intense for descrip- 
tion. 

Investigation succeeded in eliciting nothing satisfac- 
tory, beyond a knowledge of the manner in which 
escape had been made. 

Mr. Porter was accused of having aided the prisoner 
in getting away. This he stoutly denied, and being a 
man in whom his neighbors had implicit confidence, 
his assertion of innocence was generally believed. 
Mrs. Porter, as everybody knew who knew anything 
about her, was too timid a woman to attempt anything 
requiring cool and steady nerve. Wayne, as every- 
body knew, had no friendship for Dick, and no one 
suspected him of having assisted him in making his 
escape. Suspicion seemed to center on Samanthy for 
some reason, and she met many dark and angry looks 
as she took frequent observations of the crowd. The 
suspicion with which she was regarded gave her a 
sense of exultant pleasure, which she could not keep 
from showing in her face. But none of them saw fit 
to say anything to her. 

Perhaps the neighbors were somewhat afraid of 
what the result might be if they roused her temper. 


348 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


Samaiithy had more than once given those who inter- 
fered with her a foretaste of what might be expected 
when she “ got mad.” It is possible that they may 
have felt it unbecoming the dignity of a man to quar- 
rel with a woman. It is possible that they hardly 
thought it worth while, now that the bird had flown, 
to bandy words about the manner of his flight, since 
accusing any one of complicity in the matter was not 
going to give him back into their hands. Be the rea- 
son what it might, Samanthy was not openly charged 
with having helped Dick to get away from them and 
the penalty of the crime of which most of them con- 
sidered him really guilty. 

Mr. Porter was severely blamed for not having men- 
tioned the underground passage between the milk- 
house and cellar. Many were confident that if Mr. 
Porter or other members of the family had not helped 
Dick to make his escape, they had been sure that he 
would let himself out of prison by means of this 
passage, and therefore they had kept silent regarding 
it. It was plain to be seen that both Mr. Porter and 
Mr. Boone were glad that he was gone. 

Later in the day there was a little clash of arms be- 
tween Samanthy and Bill Green. 

“ There ’s a nigger in the fence,” said Bill, with a 
surly, glowering look at Samanthy. “Yes, sirree, a 
gol-durned big nigger, ’n I ’d like nothin’ better ’n to 
git him by the wool. I would so ! Ef Dick Brayton 
got out o’ there alone, I ’m a liar !” 

“ Mebbe ye be, anyway,” said Samanthy, dryly, ex- 
ultant at the prospect of a set-to with her old enemy, 
to whom she had never “ felt friendly disposed ” since 
the time when he called her an old maid. That was 
years ago, but Samanthy had a good memory. 

“ I wa’n’t talkin’ to you,” said Bill, not relishing the 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


349 


idea of a quarrel with her when there was any one 
by to listen to it. He was rather fearful of coming out 
second best. 

“ Oh, wa’n’t ye ? I thought ye was by the way ye 
glared at me,” said Samanthy, coolly. “ But it don’t 
make no diffrunce, one way or t’other. I ’m goin’ to 
give ye a leetle advice, an’ ye can take it or not, jest as 
ye like. Don’t go round the kentry huntin’ fer fences 
with niggers in ’em. Some day, mebbe, ye ’ll find the 
nigger ye’re lookin’ fer, an’ ’t won’t be healthy fer ye.” 

Shaw, now, I want to know,” said Bill, at a loss for 
anything else to say. 

‘‘ Sh’d jedge ye mought ha’ had a tussel with a nigger, 
or suthin’, ruther lately, by the looks o’ yer face,” 
said Samanthy, looking Bill’s swollen and discolored 
countenance over critically. “ Arniky ’s good fer 
bruises, after ye ’ve got ’em, but the best medicine fer 
’em is to mind yer own bisness an’ not fool with suthin’ 
ye can’t handle.” 

Bill turned away with what was meant to represent 
lofty disdain expressed on his black-and-blue features. 

Samanthy put on her sunbonnet and ran over to Mr. 
Boone’s. 

Nannie met her at the gate. 

That young woman’s eyes were red and swollen, and 
she looked as if she had passed a sleepless night. 

*‘Oh, Samanthy,” cried Nannie, beginning to cry 
again, they ’ll hang poor Dick, I know they will !” 

They ’ll hev to git him first, I kinder reckon,” said 
Samanthy, with a wink and a grin. 

Oh, Samanthy, what do you mean ?” cried Nannie, 
eagerly. “ Has anything happened ? Have they found 
anything out ?” 

“ Yes, they 've found him <?«/,” chuckled Samanthy — 
“ ont o’ the milk-house 


350 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


“ Oh ! Oh !” cried Nannie, all in a quiver of excite- 
ment. Has he got away from them ?” 

He has so,” answered Samanthy. They thought 
they’d got him where nothin’ or nobody c’d git tu 
him when they shet the milk -house door on him 
las’ night, but it seems as ef suthin’ or somebody must 
ha’ got tu him an’ helped him tu git out o’ their clutches, 
fer he ’s gone this mornin’, that ’s sure.” 

“ Oh, / know how he got away,” cried Nannie, fling- 
ing her arms about Samanthy’s neck and giving her a 
great hug. “ You helped him — I know you did ! You ’re 
the best woman in the world, and I just love you for 
what you ’ve done.” 

And then Nannie mustered up courage to do what 
she had never known of any one else doing — she kissed 
Samanthy, who tolerated the caress, but didn’t seem 
to enjoy it very much. She had been heard to say that 
she couldn’t abide “ huggin’ an’ kissin’,” it made her 
sick to see it — jest fairly turned her stomach — but in 
this case her Stomach proved strong enough to endure 
the ordeal quite satisfactorily. 

“ There, that ’ll du for onct,” she said, as there were 
indications on Nannie’s part of an intention to repeat 
the operation. “ Seems to me it looks kind o’ curi’s 
fer a gal to be so tickled to think a feller ’s got away 
when ’twa’n’t no longer ago ’n las’ week that she ’d 
skasely speak tu him. I sh ’ jedge ye ’d met with some 
kind o’ change.” 

“ I have. I ’ve changed my mind about the fellow,” 
said Nannie, radiantly, her eyes so bright now that the 
tears dried rapidly in them. “ Tell me how you helped 
him to get away, Samanthy. I ’m just dying to hear all 
about it.” 

Samanthy took Nannie into her confidence and told 
her what the reader already knows. 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


351 


‘‘ I ’ll see that the gun is taken down to the hollow 
tree,” Nannie said. “ And I ’ll take a loaf of bread 
there every night, too. “ Dear me, Samanthy ” — with 
a sudden shiver and growing pale at the thought — I 
almost know they ’ll catch him again if he stays about 
the neighborhood. Why didn’t he go right away out 
of it ?” 

“ He ’s got idees in his head,” said Samanthy, mys- 
teriously. “ Wait an’ you ’ll see.” 

What the nature of those ideas might be she did not 
think it best to explain just then. It might be better 
to keep the suspicion regarding Wayne in the back- 
ground for a time. 

After dark, Nannie took Dick’s gun to the hollow 
tree, along with a loaf of bread that she had made 
that day and taken especial pains with ; also some 
fresh, sweet butter and a generous square of ginger- 
bread. 

‘‘He likes gingerbread,” she said to herself, while a 
tear fell on the paper she was wrapping the eatables 
in. “ And he used to like me, too. Once he told me 
he didn’t know which was sweeter, gingerbread or 
kisses, and I thought it was an awful foolish speech to 
make ; but someway it don’t seem so now. Poor 
Dick ! I wish he knew how sorry I am for having 
used him so. Maybe he ’ll understand that when he 
finds the gingerbread.” 

From which it will be understood that Nannie was 
becoming sentimental as well as repentant. 




CHAPTER XVIII. 

THEIR FIRST CAMP-MEETING. 

Not a trace of the lost horses had been found. The 
search had been long and thorough, but at last it had 
been thought best by all concerned to abandon it, be- 
cause there seemed nothing more to be done. Every 
possible effort to find a clue to the mystery had been 
made, and the mystery was more perplexing now than 
than at the start. 

“We hain't got nothin' to work on,” said Deacon 
Snyder. “ I wish we c’d find the critters, but we don’t 
seem to be permitted tu do so, an’ I s’pose ’t was the 
Lord’s will that I sh’d lose ’em, so I dunno ’s I sh’d 
grumble, but — ” 

But he couldn’t help feeling that he would have 
planned things differently had he been the Lord. 

“ Hope ol’ Porter ’ll hev his stole,” Bill Green said 
more than once, smarting over his disappointment at 
Dick’s escape. He felt as it is safe to suppose a blood- 
hound feels when cheated of its victim. “ It would 
sarve him jest right to lose ’em, it would so, fer slickin’ 
up fer Dick Brayton.” 

For Bill felt sure, all along, that if Mr. Porter knew 
nothing of how Dick got away, he was glad that he 
was gone. 

And Bill was right about that. 

[352] 


THE SWAM? SECRET. 


353 


After the search for the horses was abandoned, a 
sort of still hunt for Dick began by those who believed 
that he might still be lurking in the neighborhood. It 
was not systematic, but it was kept up persistently for 
a time. Dick had no trouble in eluding those who 
sought for him. It is not an easy matter to capture a 
man in a wilderness when he knows that he is being 
hunted. Knowing this, Dick could govern his actions 
in such a manner as to throw them off the scent. 

Bill Green and a few of his cronies held to the belief 
that Dick was still in the vicinity of Brownsville, but 
where they couldn’t determine ; but they meant to find 
out, if possible. Therefore they kept up their search 
for at least a week, but finding nothing at the end of 
that time, they concluded that it was not advisable to 
neglect their farmwork longer, and they, too, gave up 
the search in a measure, though Bill said they ’d all 
keep their eyes peeled, for they “ mought run onto 
suthin’ when they wa'n’t expectin’ to.” 

I ’m dead sure o’ one thing,” said that astute indi- 
vidual, an’ that is, that he won’t dare to show his face 
insi’e the settlemunt. Fer he knows ef he did it ’d be 
a mark for somebody to shoot at, the minnit they got 
a glimpse of it.” 

Two weeks went by, and then a new excitement took 
the place of the old one. 

From secular matters the minds of the residents of 
Brownsville turned to spiritual ones. 

There was to be a camp-meeting — the first one ever 
held in Brownsville. “ Conference ” had graciously 
seen fit to grant that this opportunity for the outpour- 
ing of the spirit should be afforded the settlers in this 
frontier region, and they hailed the prospect with that 
delight which occasions of this kind always afford the 
country neighborhood, be it a new or an old one. 


354 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


In those days, more than at present, camp-meeting’s 
were held to be events that were not to be passed over 
lightly. They were considered something in the light 
of a religious carnival. The interest of every one in 
the neighborhood and its vicinity was aroused and ex- 
cited. It mattered not whether they were saints or 
sinners, whether they considered themselves as of the 
elect or the unregenerate, they were all interested 
alike. The elect attended to pray for the welfare of 
the non-elect, and for spiritual strengthening and re- 
freshment for church and individual ; and the unre- 
generate went to be amused, possibly benefited, and 
because everybody else would be sure to be there. 
The social feature was one of the chief attractions 
which the camp-meeting held out to young and old in 
those days. If there was not a growth in grace as the 
result of attendance, they certainly felt better ac- 
quainted with their neighbors. 

“ I jest delight in a camp-meetin’,” said Mrs. Boone 
to Mrs. Porter, as they sat talking about the treat in 
store for the Brownsvillians. “ It 's jest like a great 
long visit, or a picnic that holds over. I always cal- 
kilated on gitting lots o’ good out o’ camp-meetin’s, 
when I us’t to go to ’em, down East, spiritoally an’ other- 
wise. The very las’ one I went to I got that recipe for 
salt-risin’ bread from Mis’ David Slocum, an’ the pat- 
tern I made my red an’ black delaine up by. You re- 
member that red an’ black delaine, don’t ye ? There 
is some of it in that there chair-cushi’n ye ’re a settin’ 
on this minnit. An’ when Nannie was a baby an’ had 
the ’hoopin’ cough, I got some drops of ol’ Mis’ Spratt, 
that lived down by Hunt’s Holler, that did her more 
good than all the doctor’s stuff. Mis’ Spratt, she was 
a master han’ when there was sickness ’round. I ’ve 
alius thought, an’ I alius shall, that ef we’d had 


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355 


her when Solomon’s father was sick an’ died, ’stid o’ 
Doctor Bangs, she ’d ha’ bro’t him thro’. One reason 
why I alius felt a leanin’ to’rds her docterin’ was, that 
you knew suthin’ was bein’ done. It was powerful, an’ 
no mistake, an’ when folks is awful sick it stan’s to 
reason that they orter hev suthin’ strong to correspond 
to the sickness, seems to me. Now Mis’ Spratt she 
was great on ’metics an’ sweats. I know onct Solomon, 
he kep’ a complainin’ o’ not feelin’ well, had a pain in 
his back, an his side, an’ his legs, an’ purty much all 
over him, an’ I kep’ a givin’ him cammy-mile an’ 
thoroughwort, an’ puttin’ on smartweed an’ hops-an’- 
vinegar, but he didn’t seem to git any better. * They 
don’t take holt,’ says he. ‘ Send fer Mis’ Spratt. I ’d 
feel her med’cin’.’ So I had brother Job go over after 
her, and she come, an’ brung a bag o’ lobely. * His 
stummick ’s out o’ kilter,’ says she, a givin’ him jest 
one look. ‘ I knew it was. He ’s got to throw up 
afore he ’ll feel any better.’ Solomon, he groaned, fer 
he know’d what was comin. He ’d took her lobely 
’metics afore. Lan’ sakes ! how he did throw up ! I 
never see nobody come so nigh turnin’ wrong-side 
out’ards as he did. She kep’ him a heavin’ till much ’s 
three o’clock, an’ then she swe’t him — set him over a 
wash-tub full o’ hemlock-boughs, ’n’ poured b’ilin’ hot 
water on ’em, with a quilt wropped ’round him up 
tight to his neck. You ’d jest orter ha’ seen the swe’t 
roll off ’n him ! It run down his face in streams, an’ 
made a puddle on the floor. ‘ Dear suz,’ says he, when 
she got thru’ with him, summers about six, ‘ I don’t 
feel ’s ef there was a thing left of me.’ He was as 
weak as a rag, for more ’n three days, but it cured 
him. ‘ I can’t say I enjoy Mis’ Spratt’s docterin’,’ says 
he, ‘ but it ’s thurrer.’ It don’t seem ’s ef Mis’ Spratt ’s 
ben dead nigh on to ten years, does it ?” 


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“ It don’t, SO,” responded Mrs. Porter. I feel 
more ’n’ more ev’ry day the truth o’ what it says in 
that hymn Deacon Snyder ’s alius a singin’ : 

** ‘ Time is wingin’ us away 
In his etarnal flight.’ 

Wall, we ’ve all got to drop off ’n the stage of action 
sooner or later, ’n’ ef we ’re prepared to go, I dunno ’s 
it makes much diffrunce when. It alius sets me a 
thinkin’ o’ such things at camp-meetin’ time,” and she 
heaved a little sigh, appropriate to the occasion and 
the subject under consideration. 

Such preparations as were made for this first camp- 
meeting in Brownsville ! It was to the good house- 
wives of the settlement what Thanksgiving-time is to 
the New England matron. 

Pies were concocted out of the limited material at 
hand. 

“ Pie timber ’s awful ska’se,” old Mrs. Snyder said, 
“but they ’ll hev tu hev pies o’ kind.” 

Cakes were compounded as much like those of 
“ down East ” as it Was possible to make them. Loaves 
of “ry’n-injun ” were baked by the dozen, and pork 
and beans browned to toothsome crispness stood on 
the shelves of every pantry in Brownsville. A good 
many visitors were expected from “ down below,” and 
they must be as hospitably entertained as the limited 
means of the settlement would admit of. 

“ They sh’ll hev all they want of it, sich as ’t is,” was 
the sentiment prevailing among Brownsville house- 
wives. 

The men were no less busy in preparing for the 
great event so near at hand. 

A place was cleared for the camp in a grove on Mr. 
Porter’s farm. The thick underbrush was cut down 


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357 


and the small trees thinned out, leaving some great 
oaks to give shade and shelter. When the work of 
clearing was completed, it was like being in a cathedral 
roofed in by a green dome, upheld by curiously carved 
and twisted arches. Here and there the rays of sun- 
shine struck through the leaves and made flecks of 
gold on the soft moss which carpeted the place ; but 
for the most part the space beneath the trees was filled 
with a shadowy and subdued light that was delightful 
and seemed to impart to the scene a character quite 
unlike that of the open spot where sunshine met with 
no obstruction, and all was bright and suggestive of 
the farm and field, and the work that had to be done 
there. The soft, green gloom made the place seem 
like one set apart for worship. Benches were made 
of basswood logs split in two, with two legs at each 
end. These were placed about the little opening in 
the center of the great group of trees in such a manner 
that they all faced the minister’s stand, which was a 
fearfully and wonderfully constructed thing. 

“ Looks suthin’ like a hearse off ’n wheels, an’ suthin’ 
like the cabin of a canawl-boat,’* said Bill Green, irrev- 
erently. “ One good p’int about it is that it ’s stout, 
an’ ’ll Stan’ a head o’ poundin’.” 

In front of this stand was an anxious-seat, to be oc- 
cupied by conscience-stricken sinners who were ex- 
pected to seek salvation in this season of grace. At 
each corner of the camp platforms were built on stakes 
driven into the earth. These platforms were covered 
with soil to the depth of a foot. On them fires would 
be built at night whose lurid glow would give the scene 
a brilliance it had lacked by day, and impart to the 
place a weird, strange splendor that would not be with- 
out an element of fascination for the most matter-of- 
fact attendant. 


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Among the women-folks ” horse-stealing was al- 
most entirely forgotten in the pleasanter excitement 
of camp-meeting. 

In this saying I should except, however, the families 
of Mr. Boone and Mr. Porter. 

With them anxiety for Dick’s safety took away the 
capacity for enjoying the camp-meeting as they would 
have enjoyed it under other and pleasanter circum- 
stances. 

“ I wish the man who stole my bosses ’d feel the 
power o’ the Lord constrainin’ him to come forrud an’ 
confess an’ restore to me my hard-airnt proputy,” said 
Deacon Snyder. “ I do hope there ’ll be such an out- 
pourin’ o’ the sperrit as we hain’t seen fer years. We 
need if. We ^//needit. I feel the need o’ revivin’ an’ 
strengthenin’ more ’n than I ever did afore, fer I hain’t 
b’en able to stan’ the loss o’ them bosses as I s’pose a 
perfessor orter. I ’ve felt rebelyus about it. I hain’t 
b’en meek ’n ’umble-minded enough. I know it. But 
it did go ag’inst the grain to hev them bosses stole, 
an’ it does yit when I think how hard I worked to aim 
them animiles. But I hope ’n pray it won’t be the 
means o’ hinderin’ me from doin’ what I can in my 
weak way an’ manner to help on the gospill chariut 
when it comes this way a-sailin’ for the kingdom. I 
don’t want to be a stumblin’-block, an’ I hain’t a-goin’ 
tu.” 

Mr. Wayne’s singing-school would close on Thurs- 
day evening. On Friday the camp-meeting would 
begin. 

The singing-teacher was urged to stay and “help 
with the singin’ ” on Sunday, and he very kindly con- 
sented to do so. 

Mrs. Boone strongly urged Nannie to attend singing- 
school on the last two nights of its session, and learn 


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359 


the hymns that were being practiced for use on the 
following Sabbath. But Nannie was stubborn, and 
absolutely refused to go. 

“ I couldn’t take any interest in it on Dick's account,” 
she said. “ And, then — I don’t want to see Mr. Wayne. 
I wish I might never set eyes on him again. He ’s in- 
sulted me, and I haven’t spoken to him since, and I 
don’t intend to. He's a fine person to lead the sing- 
ing at a camp-meeting, isn’t he ?” 

Nannie’s eyes blazed indignantly. 

“ Wall, ef he hain’t used ye right, I can’t say 's I 
blame ye fer not havin’ nuthin’ tu du with him,” said 
her mother. “ I du hope, Nancy” — Mrs. Boone always 
called her Nancy when she wished to be very impres- 
sive — “ I du hope ’n pray, Nancy, that you ’ll turn to 
the Lord an’ experience his grace an’ pard’nin’ love in 
this camp-meetin’. An’ I hope 'n pray all the young 
folks will. I kind o’ feel ’s ef they would, an’ that 
we 're goin’ tu hev a blessid good season.” 

But Nannie’s thoughts were more about the bread 
she was getting ready to carry to Dick that night than 
they were about the Bread of Life, and it is doubtful 
if she heard very much of what her mother was saying. 




CHAPTER XIX. 

RHODA EXPERIENCES A CHANGE OF FEELING. 

It seemed to be the general opinion that since 
Dick's warning of the fate in store for him and all the 
other horse-thieves, if caught, horse-stealing was at 
an end in Brownsville. 

Consequently, a feeling of comparative security took 
possession of the settlers. Most of them believed that 
Dick had belonged to a gang, if he had not been the 
leader of it, and that his narrow escape from the fate 
meted out to horse-thieves had frightened him out of 
the country. 

That it was well with him yet, Nannie knew, for the 
supply cf daily bread which she deposited in the 
hollow tree disappeared as regularly as it was placed 
there. 

The camp-meeting opened with a great promise of 
success. The presiding elder said he felt “ as ef there 
was goin' to be a reg’lar ol’-fashi'ned pour-down o’ the 
sperrit, an’ a stirrin’ up o’ dry bones,” whereupon all 
the brothers and sisters in Israel shouted a vigorous 
“ Amen ” in concert. 

There was a goodly attendance from “ down below.” 
Never before had so many strange faces been seen in 
Brownsville. 

It began, as I have said, on Friday. The first day 
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361 


got it only fairly under headway. On the second day 
the excitement, without which no camp-meeting was 
considered a success in those days, began. 

Before night it had taken possession of most of those 
who were, or had been, members of one church or an- 
other. What the nature of the excitement was I shall 
not undertake to say. It was something which few 
could, or did, resist, and the anxious-seat was crowded 
with penitents. 

At night, after the great fires were lighted, the 
scene was one a Rembrandt would have delighted in, 
with its vivid contrasts of light and shade. The ruddy 
flames leaped up and lit the forest luridly for rods 
away, among the great tree-trunks. Overhead the 
leaves shone like silver in the strong light thrown upon 
them from below. The rapt, eager faces of men and 
women stood out with startling distinctness against a 
background of shadow. They were all turned toward 
the stand, where two ministers exhorted and prayed, 
alternately, with great fervor and a goodly exhibition 
of lung-power. Devout brothers and sisters said 
**Amen,” regardless of appropriate time or place. 
Soul-stirring old Methodist hymns were sung — hymns 
which have rung down the years like bugle-calls, and 
whose echoes yet linger on our frontiers as the star of 
empire moves westward. 

Rhoda Stevens sat near Mr. Wayne. 

I have made mention of the sickness of her brother. 
Samanthy’s hemlock sweat had failed to produce the 
desired effect. As Rhoda was entirely unused to car- 
ing for sick persons, an aunt had been sent for from 

down below,” to take charge of the sick boy. She 
had concluded, after hearing of the camp-meeting, to 
remain in Brownsville until it was over, and, in conse- 
quence of her presence in the Stevens household, the 


362 


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visits of the singing-teacher had been infrequent of 
late, for he did not care to go there very much while 
propriety, in the shape of a maiden aunt, was constantly 
regarding him with a suspicious eye. 

It was perhaps a most fortunate thing for Rhoda that 
her aunt was needed there. Ignorant of the ways of 
the world, and with confidence in the honesty of 
Wayne’s intentions, the influence he had established 
over her might very likely have been exerted for bad. 
Such no doubt would have been the case had circum- 
stances been other than they were, and Rhoda been 
left unprotected. She, in her innocence, could not un- 
derstand how it was possible for a man to be bad while 
he appeared so entirely the opposite, and she wondered 
why he so abruptly ceased his visits after her aunt 
came. Had she known the truth, she would have 
known that he felt afraid of her aunt’s sharp eyes. 
They were eyes that could see beyond such a mask as 
that which he wore. 

On that Saturday evening, at camp-meeting, he 
looked around from the bench on which he was sitting 
and met Rhoda’s eyes. He smiled, and presently came 
and sat down beside her. 

“ Are you here alone ?” he asked. 

No, Aunt Sarah came with me,” answered Rhoda. 
“ She ’s sitting over there with Mrs. Porter.” 

I hope she ’ll stay there, so that I can have a chance 
to talk with you, without feeling that she ’s listening to 
every word,” said Wayne. “ It ’s been a long time since 
I ’ve had such a chance.” 

“ I haven’t seen much of you since Tom was sick,” 
said Rhoda. “ I hope you weren’t afraid of catching 
the fever ?” 

“ No, but I was afraid of catching something from 
that aunt of yours,” he answered. “ I don’t think she 


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363 


likes me very much. At least it struck me that way 
the first time I came to see you after she took up her 
habitation in your family. And, then, too, I Ve been 
very busy.” 

Rhoda looked at him a little sharply when he said 
that, for she knew better. 

“ You look as if you did not believe me,” he said. 

“ Do I ? Well, perhaps I don’t.” 

Rhoda was inclined to resent his poor excuse, for it 
indicated that he thought any explanation would satisfy 
her. And, then, she had begun to have some doubts 
about him. Samanthy had exerted an influence against 
him, and when Samanthy didn’t like a body, she 
didn’t, an’ that was all there was to it,” according to 
her own statement, and she had left no stone unturned in 
her effort to make a point against Wayne. She had 
been influenced by two motives : She did not like 
Wayne, and she ^/hflike Rhoda. 

“ Yes, you look somewhat incredulous,” he said. “ Is 
it necessary for me to tell you all I have been doing to 
prove to you that I have been busy ?” 

“Oh, you needn’t put yourself to that trouble,” said 
Rhoda, with a simulation of indifference. She wasn’t 
going to let him flatter himself that she cared very 
much if he did not come to see her. 

Just then some one called him away for a moment. 

It was Bill Green. 

When their consultation was ended, they stood and 
chatted together for a moment. Then Rhoda heard 
Bill say : 

“Haint b'en havin' a tiff with Rhody, hev ye? 
Seem ’s ef she looked kind o’ riled up about suthin’ or 
uther.” 

“ I think she doesn’t like it very well because I 
haven’t been to see her lately,” answered Wayne, with 


364 


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a laugh that brought the angry color to Rhoda’s face. 
“ I did go there quite often, as perhaps you know ; but 
I saw the girl was inclined to take everything in dead 
earnest, and I ’ve rather fought shy of her since. A 
nice sort of a girl to help one pass away time when it 
hangs heavy. I wonder you don’t lay siege to her 
heart. Green. She ’d make you a charming wife.” 

Wayne had no idea that Rhoda could hear what he 
was saying But she heard every word of it, and her 
eyes fairly blazed with anger under cover of her sun- 
bonnet. 

“ Oh, you miserable wretch !” she said under her 
breath. “ I despise you ! I hate you! I wish I could make 
you feel how much contempt I have for you ! To talk 
like that about me to such a thing as Bill Green ! Oh, 
you puppy !” 

Mere printed words fail to express the intensity of 
wrath that was concentrated in Rhoda’s tone. Girls 
with a nature like hers can hate quite as thoroughly as 
they can do anything else. In much less time than it 
has taken to tell it her liking for Wayne had changed 
to hatred and repugnance. She saw now that what 
Dick had told her was true. There could be no mis- 
take, no doubt, for she had the truth from Wayne’s 
own lips. He had made her his dupe. He had made 
a plaything, a fool, of her. 

“ If I ever get a chance to pay you back, I ’ll do it !” 
she said, with a flashing glance of scorn at him. And 
she meant it. 

The chance was nearer at hand than she dreamed of. 

When Wayne came back to the seat he had vacated, 
from his interview with Bill Green, she turned her 
back upon him squarely, and ignored every attempt of 
his at conversation with lofty but silent contempt, 
much to his vexation, and consequently to her delight. 


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365 


Some new arrivals necessitated a change of seat. 
This brought Rhoda next to Samanthy and Nannie. 

“You don’t like Mr. Wayne as well as you used to, 
do you ?” she whispered to Nannie. 

Rhoda was never given to beating about the bush. 

“ I don’t like him very well,” answered Nannie, cau- 
tiously. 

Of late she and Rhoda had not been very intimate — 
rather cool to each other, in fact — and she was at a loss 
to understand what Rhoda’s tactics were ; therefore 
she thought it best to be rather reserved in her com- 
munications until her object in starting such a conver- 
sation became clear. 

“ / just hate him !” said Rhoda. “ I never saw any 
any one who looked meaner to me than he does.” 

“ I ’m glad of it,” said Nannie, suddenly waxing cor- 
dial. “ I don’t believe you hate him any worse than I 
do !” 

Thus it was that hatred — a feeling that should not 
have been tolerated at camp-meeting — made better 
friends of these two girls than they had been for some 
time before. 




CHAPTER XX. 

SAMANTHY HAS TOOTHACHE. 

Mr. Boone had slept in the barn every night since 
Deacon Snyder’s horses were stolen. He was afraid 
the horse-thieves would be after Dolly and Nell. 

He attended the day services of the camp-meeting 
on Friday and Saturday, and Saturday evening found 
him all on fire with religious enthusiasm. 

But he hesitated somewhat about attending the 
evening service. He wanted to go, but he felt that 
some one ought to remain at home. There was no 
telling what might happen if the place were left alone. 

But he finally concluded to go. 

Samanthy went over to Mr. Boone’s, to accompany 
Nannie to the grove. At first Nannie had declared 
that she wasn’t going to attend the camp-meeting. It 
hardly seemed right for her to be enjoying herself, or, 
at least trying to do so, while poor Dick was a fugitive 
and a wanderer on the face of the earth. 

“ Good Lord !” argued Samanthy, with good, hard 
common-sense. “Your stayin’ tu hum, mopin’ an’ 
cryin’, hain’t a-goin' tu make it any better fer him, is 
it ? He ’d ruther y’d git along with yer trouble as 
easy ’s possible. I know him well enough fer that. 
Git yer bunnit an’ le ’s be goin’.” 

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367 


They went by the way of the hollow tree, and Nan- 
nie deposited there her daily loaf, adding a great 
wedge of her mother’s camp-meeting cake and a half- 
dozen doughnuts of her own manufacture. 

“They ’ll taste good to him, I hope, poor fellow,” 
she said penitently. 

“ Course they will,” said Samanthy. “ ‘ Poor feller,’ 
indeed ! Sh’d think he ’d git the r’umatiz sleepin’ out 
these awful damp nights. I ’ve felt ’em all day jest 
from bein’ out to meetin’ las’ night. I don’t s’pose I ’d 
orter be out to-night. But, land ! I don’t see how I 
c’d stay tu hum with ev’rybody else goin’ ; so I 've 
took my chance o’ gittin’ laid up. I got out the arnicky 
bottle afore I started, so ’s to hev handy when I git 
hum ; an’ mebbe ef I rub it in well, I ’ll feel all right 
to-morrer.” 

“ Lots of nights I can’t sleep, just for thinking of 
poor Dick,” said Nannie, tears coming into her eyes. 
Her remorseful conscience made her thoughts of Dick 
very tender ones just now. 

The forest resounded with the shouts of newly 
awakened souls, the singing of devout attendants, who 
hoped by their songs to cheer on those who were 
wavering between good and evil, and the lusty exhor- 
tations of the ministers. One could hear the camp- 
meeting farther than one could see it. 

“ I s’pose it ’s all right,” said Samanthy, in a tone 
that meant that she thought it all wrong. “But fer 
my part I don’t b’leeve in hollerin’ an’ shoutin’. I ’m a 
reg’lar hard-shell Baptis’ ; all my folks was ; an’ we 
never took no stock in sanctification an’ gittin’ the 
power an’ the high mount o’ holiness an’ sich, as the 
Methodis' folks tell about. I don’t fellership it myself, 
an’ none of our folks could. Sprinklin', tu ! I sh ’d 
feel 's ef I wa’n’t more 'n half converted ef I didn’t git 


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right down intu the water. Ye needn’t tell me ! It | 
don’t Stan’ tu reason that a body can be immersed by | 
throwin’ a few drops o’ water on him ; an’ the Bible j 
says jest as plain as can be that emmersion’s right, an’ | 
I go by what that says more ’n I do by man’s sayin’ so. | 
When I go in fer anything, I b’leeve in bein’ thurrer, 
an’ sprinklin’ ain’t thurrer enough to suit me.” 

They passed on to the edge of the grounds and ob- 
served the congregation. Deacon Snyder was in the 
middle of a most powerful exhortation to a group of 
young men, who were listening with great interest, 
apparently, and a look on their faces that gave good 
grounds for the belief that they might be penitent be- 
fore the exhortation was over. 

In another part of the grounds old Mrs. Green was 
singing that quaint old piece of religious doggerel 
which most persons who have attended an old-fashioned 
camp-meeting, or have known an old-time revival, 
must remember : 

O, the sisters want religion ! 

The brothers want religion I 

We Ve got to have religion — 

Glory to the Lamb !” 

The zeal with which she was singing it rendered her 
wholly oblivious of all things earthly, but it could not 
prevent her from being a very comical figure as she 
swayed to and fro, her hands clasped, her eyes closed, 
and her old poke-bonnet tipped over on her shoulders, 
and hanging by its strings, making the worldly-minded 
and irreverent think of a small mortar aimed sky- 
ward, ready to fire off the good old lady’s head at the 
moon. 

Bill Green was among the penitents, kneeling at the 
anxious-seat. The minister had said some things that 


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369 


frightened his cowardly heart, because they told the 
truth about him, and he could not, at such a time as 
this, deny it, and the excitement of the occasion had a 
contagion in it which natures like his are very suscep- 
tible to, and it had fastened upon him, and here he 
was, among the “ seekers,” groaning and writhing as if 
the devil hated to let go his hold upon him. 

So the struggle between good and evil went on to 
the accompaniment of strange sights and sounds which 
made the scene seem fantastic and unreal enough, to 
the looker-on who took no active part in it, to be a 
fragment from a dream. 

‘‘ Dear sus a day !” cried Samanthy, in the middle of 
a hymn, greatly to the surprise of Nannie, who felt 
sure from the nature and the time of the ejaculation 
that her companion was about to *‘get the power.” 
‘‘ O, my days !” 

“ What 's the matter ?” asked Nannie. 

Samanthy answered with a smothered groan, for 
she had enveloped the lower part of her face in a 
shawl. 

** Are you getting the power ?” asked Nannie. 

“ Wuss 'n that,” answered Samanthy, in a sepulchral 
tone, from the depths of her shawl. “ It ’s the jumpin’ 
toothache. Oh, Lord ! When it jumps, I can’t keep 
my mouth shet. Oh ! Oh !” 

Hadn’t we better go home ?” asked Nannie. “ It 
will be likely to keep on aching if we stay out in this 
damp air.” 

Yes, I reckon we ’d better,” said Samanthy. “ Oh, 
my goodness !” with a frantic grab at her jaw, as the 
refractory tooth gave another excruciating twinge of 
pain. 

“ Sister Samant’y, be you a-groanin’ under the striv- 
in’s o’ the sperrit T asked Deacon Snyder’s wife, seeing 


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Samanthy’s convulsed face, and hearing her groan of 
anguish. “ Ef it is a pleadin’ an’ a intercedin’ — ” 

“ ’Tain’t,” answered Samanthy, concisely and sharply. 
“ It ’s the toothache, an’ I ’m a Baptis’, Mis’ Snyder, an’ 
don’t b’lee vein thepower, an’ sprinklin’, ’n’ sich things 
and with this general declaration of non-belief, she 
broke loose from the detaining clasp of Mrs. Snyder’s 
hand, and she and Nannie left the grounds. 

As they passed the minister’s stand, Wayne was just 
striking up that old recruiting-hymn of the grand old 
Methodist Army : 

Am I a soldier of the Cross, 

A follower of the Lamb ?” 

“ Sh’d a ’nough sight sooner think he was a stealer of 
a hoss,” said Samanthy, with a grim and irreverent 
humor. Her unexpected and accidental rhyme set her 
to chuckling, in the midst of which mirthful demon- 
stration her tooth gave a twinge outdoing all former 
efforts in that line, and bringing the tears to her eyes. 

“ Sarves me right fer sayin’ foolish things on a 
solium time,” she groaned, and they passed the singer 
without his seeing them^ and set off homeward. 




CHAPTER XXI. 

CAUGHT IN THE ACT. 

They walked home in silence. Samanthy was too 
busy with her efforts to keep the cool night-air from 
her tooth to be willing to attempt a conyersation. 

“ Hev to go in the back way," she mumbled, when 
they reached the house. Mr. Porter 's got the key 
to the front-door padlock, an' I took the one b’longin’ 
to the back one." 

In this way it happened that they did not go around 
to the side of the house fronting the barn ; therefore 
they were not seen by any one who might have been 
there at that time. 

** Now tell me what I can do for you," said Nannie 
as soon as they were in the house. 

Samanthy had dropped into a chair and was sway- 
ing to and fro with her hands at her jaw, groaning 
dismally. 

“ Hops — git a bag o’ hops — an’ pour b’ilin’ hot water 
on ’em," she directed, spasmodically. “ On top shelf — 
but’ry. Dear sus a me ! Wish Mr. Porter was here — I ’d 
hev him yank it out with the bullet-mol’s. Oh, my 
goodness!" 


[371] 


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Nannie went into the pantry, and was preparing to 
climb on an old barrel, in order to get at the top-shelf 
where the herbs for winter use were stored away, 
when she heard a sound that seemed like the creaking 
of a door on wooden hinges. 

She stooped down and peered out of the window on 
the side toward the barn, from which direction the 
sound had seemed to come. 

A cry of surprise escaped her. The barn door was 
open ! 

“ Samanthy !” she called in a low, excited whisper. 
“ Samanthy !’* 

“ What 's wanted ?" asked Samanthy from the 
kitchen. 

“ Come here,” said Nannie. “ Be quick !” 

“What 's up now?” demanded Samanthy, coming to 
the pantry-door. “ Can’t you find the hops ? They ’re — ” 

“ The barn door ’s open. I do believe somebody ’s 
after Uncle Ezra’s horses,” said Nannie. “ Look and 
see — I ’m not mistaken.” 

“ Good Lord !” cried Samanthy, running to the 
window. “ ’T is so, true ’s you ’re alive ! Nancy 
Boone, it ’s hoss-thieves, ye can d’pend on it ! They 
thought we was all off to meetin’, ’n they ’d hev clear 
sailin’ !” 

“ Oh, what ’ll we do ?” cried Nannie. “ Do you 
think it would scare ’em if we screamed ?” 

“/’// scare ’em,” said Samanthy, grimly and reso- 
lutely. “Jest keep as still as de’th, an’ h’ist that 
winder about two inches. Be spry about it, too.” 

Nannie knew that any plan of action Samanthy might 
decide on would be wiser and more effective than any 
she might propose, so without stopping to ask ques- 
tions, she raised the window, as directed, while Saman- 
thy was in the kitchen. 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


373 


She came back with Mr. Porter’s old musket. 

“ Oh !” almost shrieked Nannie. ** You aren’t going 
to shoot them, are you ?” 

“ I be ef I can,” replied Samanthy. ** I don’t expect 
to hit nothin’ ’cept the side o’ the barn, but ef I don’t 
’twon’t be my fault. If I don’t hit, mebbe I ’ll 
scare ’m.” 

She thrust the muzzle of the gun through the opening, 
and waited. 

Presently she fancied that she saw something mov- 
ing back in the shadow with which the barn seemed to 
be filled. It was impossible to make out whether it 
was a man or not, but it was safe to conclude that it 
must be, for the door would not have been open had 
human agency not been exerted on it. 

“ Hoi’ yer breath,” whispered Samanthy, bracing her 
feet and shutting her eyes. “ I ’m goin’ to pull the 
trigger.” 

There was a second of awful silence, then a report 
that would have done credit to a small cannon, and 
Samanthy measured her length on the floor. 

“ Land o’ goodness ! How it kicked !” groaned the 
prostrate damsel. ** I reckon I ’d orter p’inted it t’ other 
way.” 

At the barn there had been a quick, sharp cry from 
the shadow in the doorway, a frightened oath from 
another inside, and then a man staggered and fell 
across the log sill, with a red stream of blood spurting 
from his breast. 

** Are you hit ?” cried the other, coming to his side 
and attempting to raise him to his feet. 

“ Yes,” was the husky answer. ‘‘ I guess I ’m done 
for at last. Don’t stay here. You can’t do any good 
if you do. They won’t hang me after I’m dead. Make 
tracks, partner.” ^ . 


374 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


“ But I can’t leave you in this fix,” said the other. 
“ You may not be hurt as bad as you think. Couldn’t 
you walk by leaning on me ? Try it.” 

It ’s no use,” was the reply. “ I ’m shot through 
the body. Run for it if you want to save your neck.” 

His companion hesitated. It seemed too cowardly 
to leave a wounded comrade like this, even if remain- 
ing at his side could afford him no help. A hoarse 
rattle in the throat of the wounded man decided him. 

“ Well, then, good-by, old fellow,” he said, putting 
out his hand and touching the other’s arm at parting. 
“ I ’d stay if I coiild help you, if I hung for it,” he 
added, still wavering between a desire to be loyal to 
an old companion in crime and a longing to seek per- 
sonal safety. 

The only answer was a gurgling sound in the throat 
of the dying man. He knew that his companion’s life 
was ending, and he sprang over his body and fled into 
the darkness. 

“ I reckon I ’ve convinced ’em we w^a’ n’t all away 
from hum,” said Samanthy, struggling to her feet. 
“ I ’ll bet I ’ll be black ’n blue to-morrer from the 
kickin’ o’ that gun. I never see nothin’ like it.” 

'‘Are you hurt much asked Nannie, beginning to 
recover from her fright. 

“ Not seri’us, I guess,” replied Samanthy. “ Sup- 
posen you look out an’ see ef you can see anything.” 

Nannie went to the window just in time to see the 
man running toward the cornfield. 

“One’s running,” she answered. “And, oh, Sa- 
manthy” — with a frightened quaver in her voice — 
“ there ’s something lying in the barn-door that looks 
as if it might be a man ! Oh, Samanthy, what if it 
should be ! What will you do if you ’ve killed him ?” 

“Sha’n’t wear mournin’ fer him,” said Samanthy, 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


375 


beginning to feel queer, as she afterward related this 
part of the story to her friends. “ I wouldn’t like to 
know I ’d killed somebody, but ef 'twas a hoss-thief, 
somebody *d orter kill him, an’ I dunno but it mought as 
well be me 's anybody else.” 

We ought to let Uncle Porter know,” said Nannie. 
“ Oh, Samanthy !” — suddenly — I wouldn’t wonder in 
the least if they 'd got our horses too.” 

“ Like ’s not,” said Samanthy. Ef you ’ll go right 
down an’ let ’em know what ’s happened, I ’ll stay here 
and keep watch.” 

“ Oh, I wouldn’t dare to !” cried Nannie. “ What if 
I met one of the horse-thieves ?” 

Then you stay here, an’ I ’ll go,” said Samanthy. 

Let ’s both go,” said Nannie. “ It wouldn’t do 
any good for one of us to stay here while the other 
was gone.” 

To this plan Samanthy assented, and they set oif on 
a run for the camp-meeting grounds. 

“ It cured my toothache, anyway,” said Samanthy. 
“ I declare ’t was lucky I had it, wa’ n’t it ? It sent 
me hum at jest the right time. Ef we ’d ’a’ b’en five 
minutes later, they ’d ’a’ b’en gone with the bosses.” 

Mr. Porter was in the midst of a stirring exhorta- 
tion when the two women reappeared at the camp- 
meeting. 

Samanthy went up to him and gave his arm a twitch. 

“ You ’d better come hum,” she whispered. “ There ’s 
trubble to the barn. Hoss-thieves, I reck’n !” 



CHAPTER XXII. 


ON THE TRAIL. 

Mr. Porter broke off his exhortation very abruptly, 
and joined Mr. Boone, to whom Nannie had gone with 
the news of what had happened. 

It was evident to all, from the action and manner of 
the women, that something unusual had taken place, 
and a crowd soon gathered about them, for informa- 
tion. 

Samanthy told all there was to tell in as few words 
as possible. 

Five minutes later the services of the evening were 
declared ended, and the entire congregation set off for 
Mr. Porter’s. 

“ Did you say Samanthy shot one ?” asked Rhoda, 
coming up to where Nannie stood, with her mother and 
Mrs. Porter. Oh, dear ! Isn’t it dreadful ! I sha’ n’t 
sleep a wink to-night thinking of it.” 

“ Neither shall I,” said Nannie. “ I haven’t got the 
sound of that gun out of my ears yet. It doesn’t 
seem to me as if I ever would. Come home with me, 
Rhoda. Your aunt will have plenty of company, and 
won’t need you. Do come, please ! I can’t bear to 
think of staying alone, and you haven’t stayed with 
me in a long time.” 

Rhoda consented, and the party followed the men 
from the camp-ground. 

[ 376 ] 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


377 


It was a crowd of stern-faced men that gathered 
about the barn, a few minutes later. 

“ She hit one, sure enough," said the foremost settler, 
as he paused at the open stable-door. “ He 's hurt 
purty bad, or dead I reckon, jedgin’ from the blood." 

“ Lift him up," said Mr. Boone. “ Mebbe he 's 
fainted." 

Two men stepped forward and attempted to lift the 
figure in the doorway. 

“ He 's dead," said one of them, after partially raising 
the body. “ Neighbors, there 's one less horse-thief in 
this world," he added, solemnly, yet not without a 
sound of satisfaction in his voice. 

There was a moment of deep silence in the crowd. 
The presence of death kept down the demonstration of 
the excitement that every man felt. 

Just then Wayne came up, in company with one of 
the ministers. 

** We heard you had caught a horse-thief, and came 
to gratify a curiosity to see what one of the animals 
looked like," he said, with a laugh. But Mr. Boone 
fancied that he detected an uneasy sound in the 
speaker’s voice, and that the laugh which accompanied 
the words seemed forced and unnatural. 

“ We have," said Mr. Porter, holding his lantern so 
that the light of it fell full upon the dead man’s face. 

Wayne started back with a frightened exclamation. 
He stood for a moment and looked upon the ghastly 
sight, then turned away with a shudder that he could 
not hide and walked toward the house. 

“ The wrath of God smites the transgressor," said 
the minister, solemnly. “ May he have mercy on this 
poor sinner’s soul ! Let us pray." 

And kneeling by the dead, among an awe-struck 
company which stood with bared, bowed heads, the 


378 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


good man prayed, and the sound of his voice was all 
that broke the silence until ‘‘ Amen !” was said. 

A hasty consultation’ was held concerning the dis- 
posal to be made of the body. 

Before it was concliided, Mr. Boone came hurrying 
up with the news that his horses were gone. 

“ I tell you what it is, men,” said one of the settlers, 
as he listened to the tidings, “ ef we ever git track o’ 
the thieves, we ’ve got to do it now. Them with 
Boone’s horses can’t have more ’n an hour’s start of us, 
an’ it seems as if they must ha’ left some track behind. 
This ” — pointing to the body in the doorway — ‘‘ ’ll be 
quite likely to put an end to their performances in this 
neighborhood for a spell, anyway, an’ we don’t want 
’em to git away if it ’s possible to find ’em. We ’ve 
hunted fer ’em high ’n’ low, an’ hunted thurrer, but we 
hain’t got on to the right trail fer some reason or an- 
other. We hain’t never found out what they ’d done 
so soon after they ’d did it as we hev this time. Ef we 
turn out an’ s’arch as ef we meant bisness, I can’t help 
feelin’ ’s ef we could get some track of ’em. It seems 
so, anyway. An’ I go in fer makin’ such a hunt as we 
hain’t made yit, though I don’t know ’s we can be a bit 
more thurrer ’n we hevb’en. But we can try., anyhow ; 
an’ ef we do find any signs of ’em, we can foller ’em up 
ef we git right at it an’ don’t waste no time. What say, 
neighbors ?” 

A hearty murmur of assent went over the crowd. 

Lights were procured, and a close examination of 
the premises about Mr. Boone’s barn began. 

“ Here ’s their tracks plain ’s day,” declared Bill 
Green, as eager for the pursuit of horse-thieves now 
as he had been an hour ago for pardon of his sins. “ I 
feel ’s ef we was goin’ to fetch ’em ///A time. I do so !” 

An hour later there was unbroken quiet where, so 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


379 


ihort a time before, there had been so much excite- 
Bent. They were on the trail of the horse-thieves at 
last. 

The dead man’s body had been placed in the barn to 
iwait burial on the morrow. 

It was twelve o’clock when the lights carried by tlie 
l^n who were on track of the horse-thieves faded into 
feint glimmers in the distance, and finally dwindled 
into so many sparks, and then seemed to go out in the 
darkness of the night. 

I In the kitchen at Mr. Porter’s the women and 
ministers were talking over the exciting events of the 
evening. Wayne had retired. The clock struck one. 

“I declare,” exclaimed Mrs. Boone, “ I ’d no idee ’t 
was so late ! Come, Mis’ Holdredge, let ’s be goin’, or 
|we sha’n’tgit any rest to-night, an’ I feel clear beat 
lout.” 

Mrs. Holdredge was a visitor from “ down below,” 
whom Mrs. Boone had invited home with her from 
camp-meeting. 

Are you ready, Nannie ?” asked Mrs. Boone, as she 
and Mrs. Holdredge rose to go. 

You can go on, mother, and Rhoda and I ’ll come 
right along,” responded Nannie. “I want to see Sa- 
manthy a minute.” 

Mrs. Boone and her friend took their departure, 
and Nannie called Samanthy into the pantry for con- 
sultation. 

Dick ought to know of what ’s happened,” said 
Nannie. “ It may be that the knowledge of it would 
be of great advantage to him. Hadn’t I better write 
a few lines and put them in the hollow tree ? He ’ll 
find them to-morrow, if he ’s already been there to- 
night.” 

“ I reckon ’t would be a good idee,” said Samanthy. 


380 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


So Nannie tore a blank leaf out of the front part of 
a hymn-book and hurriedly wrote a few lines, explain- 
ing the condition of affairs. 

** I ’ll leave it there on my way home,” she said.- 
“ Good night, Samanthy. I ’m glad I didn’t shoot that 
man, but I don’t think you did wrong. Nobody does.” 

Neither du I,” said Samanthy. But I do feel 
awful curi’s over it somehow. He desarved it, but — 
I ’d ruther some one else ’d did it. But it ’s done, and 
can’t be helped ; an’ I dunno ’s I ’m sorry or hev any 
call tu be. Mought jest as well be me tu du it as any- 
body else, as I said afore ; but — ” 

Nannie and Rhoda took their departure, and Sa- 
manthy went to her room and went to bed, but not to 
sleep. The face of the dead man alone in the barn 
seemed before her constantly. She was honest with 
herself when she said that she felt she had done right, 
and yet the thought that a man had come to his death 
by her act was anything but a pleasant one. 

“He desarved it,” she kept saying to herself, “but 
I ’d ruther somebody else had did it.” 




CHAPTER XXIII. 

RHODA OVERHEARS A CONVERSATION. 

“ Rhoda,” said Nannie, when they were half way to 
Mr. Boone’s, “ will you wait here a minute while I go 
down the road just a little way ? I ’ll be back in no 
time. Some time I ’ll tell you all about it.” 

“ Yes, I ’ll stay,” said Rhoda, rather reluctantly, and 
greatly wondering what Nannie’s errand could be in 
that direction, at that time of night. 

“ I ’ll be right back,” said Nannie, as she hurried 
away. “ Don’t be afraid, Rhoda.” 

“ N-no,” responded Rhoda, feeling more that she was 
afraid, in spite of her assurance to the contrary. 

She sat down on a log behind a clump of bushes to 
await Nannie’s return. 

The moon, which had been partially obscured, came 
out from behind a cloud, and looking toward Mr. Por- 
ter’s, she saw that the window in the gable of the house 
was raised and a man was leaning out. 

As she saw this she became conscious of a sound 
which she vaguely remembered to have heard before, 
since leaving Mr. Porter’s — the call of a night-bird. 

But as she listened to it now, there seemed to be 

[381] 


382 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


somethingf peculiar about it, which she had' never 
noticed in the call before. 

It was given three times. Then the forest from which 
k came was silent again. 

Looking toward Mr. Porter’s, she saw that the man 
who had been looking out of the window, apparently- 
listening, was now climbing out upon the roof of the 
shed. 

“ It must be the singing - teacher,” she thought. 
“ But what can he be getting out of the house in that 
way for ?” 

The man she was watching dropped lightly to the 
ground from the shed-roof, and came toward the road. 
Then he leaped the fence and came directly toward 
the spot where she'was hidden. 

“ What shall I do ?” thought Rhoda, frightened half 
to death. “ I don’t dare run, and I don’t dare scream. 
Oh, if Nannie would only come back !” 

Being so badly frightened, she did nothing but shrink 
back closer into the screening shadow of the bush be- 
hind which she was sitting. 

Then she heard steps coming from the opposite di- 
rection. Evidently Mr. Wayne had come to meet some 
one, and his visitor was approaching. 

The two men met in the sheltering shadow of an old 
cottonwood, not fifteen feet away from where the 
frightened girl was crouching, her heart beating such' 
a tattoo against her ribs that it seemed to her they 
must hear it. 

“ Is that you. Number Five ?” asked Wayne. 

“ Yes, it ’s me,” was the reply. “ It ’s been a bad 
night for us, captain.” 

“ Yes, it has been a bad night for us,” responded 
Wayne. “ Number Six has got through with his 
troubles.” 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


383 


They got away all right with the horses from the 
other place,” said the man called Number Five. 
“ They ’re hot after us, but I think we ’ll be able to 
throw them off the scent, after all. When do we leave 
the swamp, captain ? It ’s getting to be almost too hot 
for us in this vicinity, and the sooner we ’re out of it 
the better I shall be satisfied.” 

“ I will join you to-morrow night, and we will leave 
at once,” replied Wayne. “ See that everything is in 
readiness for a start as soon as I arrive. How many 
horses are there in all ?” 

“ Six,” was the reply. “ That is, there tvill be six if 
they succeed in running in those they got away with 
to-night. There ’s the two from Deer Creek, the two 
from the crossroads, and to-night’s haul.” 

“ One a-piece for us, since Number Six has thrown 
up his hand,” said Wayne. “ That won’t be so bad, 
after all, if we get them out of the swamp all right. 
It ’s a lucky thing that we hit upon the Big Swamp for 
a hiding-place. They have an idea, about here, that 
it ’s impossible to get a horse into it, so they haven’t 
thought of looking there for us. Poor Number Six ! 
I ’m sorry to leave him behind. Let ’s see — the plan 
of taking the horses down the creek from the road till 
it got deep enough to take them into the swamp on a 
raft originated with him, didn’t it ? I wish he were 
going with us, but I suppose it was his fate to be shot, 
and fate ’s something none of us can get away from, I 
take it.” 

'' It ’ll be beginning to grow light soon,” said the 
other. “I think I ’d better be on the move. You’ll 
be there to-morrow night, then ?” 

I ’ll be there by midnight if nothing happens,” 
said Wayne. Have everything packed and in readi- 
ness to leave as soon as I join you. Do ygu know 


384 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


where the settlers are making’ their search to- 
night ?” 

“ Some of them have gone up the creek,” was the 
reply. “ Our men took the horses into the thick weeds 
at the edge of the marsh, up the road, and from that 
into the creek, and then down stream, and across the 
road ; and if the settlers come on any tracks it ’ll puz- 
zle them to tell which way we went, for it ’s hard to 
tell which way tracks point in a marsh and running 
water. 1 hardly think they ’ll get on the right scent 
before we ’re safely out of the country, if we leave to- 
morrow night.” 

Well, take care of yourself,” said Wayne. “I ’ll be 
on hand by midnight, sure. Good night, Number 
Five.” 

“ Good night, captain,” responded the other. 

Then they separated, one going back to the house, 
and the other into the woods. 

Rhoda wondered if she was really awake. She 
could hardly credit the evidence of her senses. 

“So Wayne ’s the leader of the gang of horse- 
thieves !” said she to herself, in a frightened whisper. 
“And I ’ve found out the whole thing! Dear me! 
It scares me to think of it ! It don’t seem as if it 
could be possible ! I must have dreamed it ! Where 
can Nannie be all this time ? I wish she could have 
been here and heard it all !” 

“ Rhoda !” came in a low whisper from a fence-cor- 
ner, not far off. “ Rhoda !” 

“ Is that you, Nannie ?” asked Rhoda, in a voice but 
little above a whisper. 

“ Yes,” was the reply. “ Have they gone ?” 

“Yes,” answered Rhoda. “Oh, Nannie, did you 
hear what they said ?” 

“ I only heard what they said when they were about 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


385 


to separate,” answered Nannie. I came near running 
right on to them, but I thought I heard some one talk- 
ing, and stopped to make sure, just in time to keep 
from being discovered by them. What was it they 
talked about ? Something about stealing horses, wasn’t 
it ? Tell me what it was, Rhoda — quick ! I ’m just 
dying to know.” 

Rhoda told what she had heard. 

“ Oh, Rhoda !” cried Nannie, with radiant eyes. “ It 
was the luckiest thing in the world that I brought you 
home with me to-night ! What you ’ve heard will 
save Dick.” 

“That’s true, isn’t it?” cried Rhoda. “I hadn’t 
thought of that, I was so excited. It seems as if the 
hand of Providence was in it, doesn’t it ? I used Dick 
shamefully, just because he told me the singing-teacher 
was making a fool of me. He talked to me like a 
brother, and I got mad about it. Now I ’ve a chance 
to help him out of his trouble, and also to get even 
with Mr. Wayne, and just to-night, at camp-meeting, I 
was wishing a chance to do that would come along. 
Only to think, Nannie, that /, of all persons, should be 
the one to find out who the horse-thieves are, and how 
they got away with the horses they stole ! It’s just 
like a story, isn’t it ?” 

“ Rhoda, I ’ll tell you what we ought to do,” said 
Nannie, with sudden conviction. “ We ought to follow 
the men who ’re out hunting for the thieves, and put 
them on the right track. There ’s no man here to send 
but the minister, and he wouldn’t know where to go 
if we sent him. If we can find the men, we can tell 
them what we have heard, and part of them can go into 
the Big Swamp, and some of them can come back and 
take care of Wayne. It won’t do to tell any one what 
we ’ve heard till we find the men and tell it to them, for 


386 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


if an inkling of it gets out, Wayne ’ll be sure to hear 
something, and before the men can get back he ’ll be 
gone. The best thing we can do is to follow the men. 
It may be a long tramp for us, but I ’m not afraid to 
undertake it.” 

Nannie was brave now. She was thinking how com- 
pletely Dick would be vindicated, and this thought 
gave her courage for anything. 

“ I ’ll go,’.’ said Rhoda. “ I ’m not much afraid when 
there ’s some one with me.” 

Well, then, come on,” said Nannie, eager to be off. 
And hand in hand the two girls started down the road 
toward the creek that crossed it a mile or more farther 
on in its way into the Big Swamp. 




CHAPTER XXIV. 

A CLOSE CALL. 

Dick Brayton had been to the old hollow tree near 
the pasture bars for his daily rations. 

He had reached the bank of the creek near which he 
had constructed a little hut of boughs in an old tree- 
top. Here he had passed his nights quite comfortably 
since his enforced exile from civilization. 

As he went down the bank he fancied he heard a 
peculiar sound behind him. It was peculiar because 
of its regularity. He stopped and listened. 

He had heard something. 

The sound was that of splashing waters. 

Splash, splash, splash ! 

The sound seemed to be coming nearer as he listened. 

“ It can’t be a cow,” thought Dick. “It ’s too rapid 
for that. It can’t be a deer, for he ’d go faster and 
stiller.” 

He hid himself in a clump of willows and waited. 

Splash, splash, splash ! 

Nearer and nearer came the sounds, and presently 
he saw shadowy figures in the dim light which sifted 
down through the branches of the trees overhanging 
the stream, which was here about fifteen feet wide, and 
perhaps knee-deep. 

“ Horses, by all that ’s good !” exclaimed Dick. 

[387] 


388 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


** Young’ fellow, there mischief in the wind. I won- 
der if I ’ve got on the track of the horse-thieves at last ?” 

By this time the horses were opposite the place where 
he was hidden. 

He gave a great start of surprise, and could hardly 
repress the cry which rose to his lips. 

For he recognized Nell and Dolly. 

He could not distinguish the features of the men 
who were riding the horses, the light through the 
branches being so dim. 

He waited until they had passed a few rods beyond 
his hiding-place. Then he left it and followed them 
cautiously down the bank of the stream. 

The Big Swamp’s borders were four or five miles 
from the road. As the land became lower the creek 
widened and deepened, and the banks gradually 
merged themselves into boggy flats. Thus, at the 
junction of the swamp with the hard-wood land on 
either side of the creek, there was nothing but miry 
soil, with water standing in every hole, and it was al- 
most impossible for a man to make his way through 
the tangled growth of bushes over this treacherous 
semblance of terra firma. 

The men stopped when the water deepened so that 
the horses’ legs were hidden in it. 

From behind a clump of immense willows growing 
in the bend of the stream one of them shoved out a 
raft constructed of light cedar logs. 

With some trouble they succeeded in getting the 
horses upon it. 

This done, they proceeded to pole it off down stream 
toward the heart of the Big Swamp. 

There isn’t any use of my going any farther,” 
thought Dick. “ I know where the gang keeps itself, 
now, and I ’ve found out how it gets there. It ’s a 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


389 


little strange that no one has ever thought of their 
wading down the creek till they reached deep water. 
But it isn’t so very strange, after all, for nobody sup- 
posed it possible for them to get a horse into the Big 
Swamp in any manner.” 

He sat down on a fallen cypress and thought over 
what it was best to do. 

“ I think the best plan is to go directly to Mr. 
Boone's,” he decided. “I guess I can get there with- 
out stretching hemp. It won’t take long to get a squad 
of men on the trail. I see how it all is, now. Wayne 
is leader of the gang. He hunts up jobs, and lays the 
plans, and keeps the other fellows posted. What I 
found on the old cottonwood was his instruction to 
them after the stealing of Deacon Snyder’s horses had 
been settled on. It ’s all as clear as daylight to me 
now. I hope we can catch them, horses and all. If 
we can^ won’t it be a proud day for me when I can 
stand up before all Brownsville and say : ‘ I ’m the 
man you wanted to hang for a horse-thief. Now^ what 
have you got to say about it T ” 

About a mile from the road a bluff jutted out from 
the south, forcing the creek to make an abrupt turn. 
Dick followed it around this point, and as he came to 
the open space on the other side of it, he found himself 
face to face in the dull gray light of breaking day with 
half a dozen men with Bill Green at their head. 

There had been a difference of opinion on reaching 
the place where the creek crossed the road, and part of 
the men had gone up the creek as the horse-stealers had 
planned for them to do, and Bill’s party had started 
toward the Big Swamp, on the correct supposition that 
the up-stream trail was a dodge to throw them off the 
scent. 

They went up there a ways, an’ then came back in 


390 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


the water, an’ a mile or two to’ards the swamp they ’ll 
strike high Ian’ an put fer down b’low. They want tu 
keep us a-dodgin’ round so ’s they can gain time an' git 
a good start of us.” 

That was Bill’s argument, and in part he reasoned 
correctly. On the strength of this belief he had come 
down the stream, inspecting the banks closely on either 
side, hoping to find where the horses had been led out 
of the water and driven off toward some of the roads 
leading out of the settlement. 

“ That 's him — that ’s Dick Brayton !” shouted Bill 
Green, who had been the first to recognize the man 
who appeared so suddenly before them. We 're close 
on to the gang now ! Shoot him ef he tries to 
run !” 

Dick had no idea of running. 

“You’re just in time,” he said. “I’ve discovered 
the secret of the horse-thieves.” 

“ An’ we ’ve jest diskivered one on ’em a second time,” 
answered Bill, as, with a desperate courage which he 
wondered at even then, and could never account for 
afterward, he knocked Dick’s gun from his hands and 
grappled with him. Instantly others of the party came 
to his assistance, and in a minute Dick was for the 
second time a prisoner. 

“ Don’t le ’s give him a chance to git away ag’in,” 
said one of the men. “ String him up to this ol’ tree, 
an’ make sure of him this time.” 

“ That ’s the talk !” cried Bill Green. “ Ef we go to 
palaverin’ with him some o’ the rest o’ the gang may 
come along, fust we know, an’ help him tu give us the 
slip. I don’t b’leeve in trials fer hoss-thieves. Ef we 
hadn’t a- waited fer one afore, mebbe Mr. Boone ’d b’en 
a span o’ bosses ahead.” 

“ See here, neighbors,” said Dick, attempting to be 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


391 


calm. “ I can prove to you that I am as innocent of 
what has been laid to me as any one of you is." 

“ Du it, then, an’ be spry about it," said Bill. “ We 
hain’t no time to fool away." 

“ I have just tracked the horse-thieves, with Mr. 
Boone’s horses, to the border of the Big Swamp," said 
Dick. “ I was on my way to Mr. Boone’s to let him 
know what I had found out.’’ 

“ That ’s a likely story," sneered Bill. “ But I reckon 
’twon’t go down with us. What du j/ou think about it, 
fellers ?’’ 

We don’t take no stock in it," respondedMr. Balcomb. 

Dick’s explanation had fallen like good seed on stony 
ground. 

“ Hello, there ’s Perkins an’ Speers," cried Bill, as 
two men appeared on the opposite side of the creek. 
“ Come acrost, boys." 

Bill met the men a little way from the group which 
surrounded Dick, and talked with them in low tones 
for a few minutes. 

“ Ye ’re right," Dick heard one of them say. “ It ’s 
best to make short work of it. Ef ol’ Boone or Porter 
comes along afore it ’s done they ’ll want us to hold on 
an’ give him a chance for a trial, an’ I don’t go in fer 
sich doin’s, / don’t. Hangin’s what /go in fer, an’ I go 
in fer it now !’’ 

“ My idee," said Speers, concisely. “ Here ’s suthin’ 
that ’ll ans’er in place of suthin’ better." 

As he spoke he unwound a leather strap from about 
his waist. It was five or six feet long. Men often used 
these straps instead of suspenders, tying them or buck- 
ling them sufficiently tight to keep their trousers from 
slipping over their hips. 

Bill took the strap and came back to the waiting 
group. 


392 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


“ I ’ve talked with Speers an’ Perkins an' they ain’t 
in favor o’ waitin’,” he said. “ What d’ ye say, men ? 
Is it hang ?” 

“ Hang it is !” was the reply from every man in the 
party. 

“ For God’s sake don’t murder a man in cold blood !’» 
cried Dick, pale as death. “ I tell you I am innocent. 
If you ’ll take the trouble to search the Big Swamp 
you ’ll find that I ’ve told you the truth. Search and 
find out whether I ’ve been lying to you before you 
hang me.” 

“ What ’s the use o’ foolin’ with him ?” cried Perkins. 
“ We ’re only wastin’ words an’ time.” 

Tie his ban’s,” ordered Bill. 

And in spite of his powerful struggles Dick’s hands 
were tied, and the fatal strap fastened about his neck. 

“ For God’s sake — ” he began, but Perkins had thrown 
the strap over a limb, and two or three men had seized 
it, and he felt himself being lifted from his feet. 

At that instant a wild, shrill cry, full of mortal terror, 
rang through the gray gloom of the morning, and 
caused them to relax their grasp. Turning in the di- 
rection whence it came, they saw Nannie and Rhoda 
coming swiftly toward them, with faces as white as 
those of the dead are, making wild gestures for them 
to release Dick. 

Dick’s good angel had brought them at the very nick 
o’ time. The men let go the strap, and his feet touched 
earth again. 

“ It wasn’t he !” cried Rhoda, panting for breath. 
“ We’ve found out — who the thieves are — and the ring- 
leader ’s Wayne !” 

Then she sank down on a log and burst into tears. 

“ What ’s that ye ’re sayin’ ?” cried Bill. “ Don’t you 
go to tryin’ to fool us. Ef you do — ” 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


393 


** If we did I suppose you ’d hang us,” cried Nannie, 
indignantly. “ Was that what you were going to 
say ?” 

“ What is it that you Ve found out ?” asked Perkins. 
“ If you’ve anything to tell, tell it an’ done with it.” 

Nannie drew a long breath and began. 

What she had to tell the reader already knows. 

I sw’ar to man, I don’t b’leeve it !” cried Bill. “ It 
can’t de that the singin’-teacher ’s a hoss-thief.” 

He is,” cried Rhoda. “I heard what Nannie has 
told you. May I never speak another word if we 
haven’t told you the truth.” 

“ Wayne a hoss-thief !” repeated Bill, incredulously. 

It be !” 

I dunno but he ’s as likely to be as anybody else,” 
said Perkins. “ I ’ll tell you what my plan is : Let ’s hunt 
up the other party. Then let’s take Brayton with us, 
an’ go into the Big Swamp. Ef we find the thieves 
we ’ll fix ’em, an’ that ’ll let him off. Ef we find we ’ve 
b’en fooled — ” 

The unfinished sentence had a great deal of stern 
meaning in it. 

The plan was agreed to. 

** An’ after we ’ve b’en there, we ’ll come out an’ call 
on Mr. Wayne,” said Bill, who, much against his will, 
was convinced of the truth of Rhoda’s story. He be- 
gan to feel vindictive against Wayne for having duped 
him, as he must have done if he was a horse-thief. 

** See here,” he said, turning suddenly and facing 
Dick, “ didn’t I see you makin’ marks on that ol’ cot- 
tonwood ?” 

** No, Bill Green, you did not,” answered Dick. “ I 
don’t say that you didn’t see me there. I was there. 
I went to see what I could find on the tree. I had 
been there before, and found something that I didn’t 


394 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


understand. But I wrote nothing there. That 's the 
truth, Bill Green, whether you believe it or not.” 

“ I moiight ha’ b’en mistaken, but I don’t see how I 
could ha’ b’en,” said Bill. Anyhow, I thd' t you did. 
Hope to die ’f I didn’t.” 

Considering Bill’s proverbial stubbornness, this was 
a surprising admission for him to make. 

“ Dick,” said Nannie, coming up to him, with tearful 
eyes, “ you haven’t told me whether you ’re glad to 
see me or not.” 

‘‘You know I am,” said Dick, and the look which 
accompanied the words was eloquent enough to satisfy 
Nannie that she had a very warm corner in his heart 
yet. “ If you hadn’t come just as you did I ’d have 
been a dead man by this time.” 

“ Don’t !” cried Nannie, turning pale again. 

Then Rhoda came to shake hands with Dick, and 
though little was said in words, a great deal was ex- 
pressed in looks, and looks are often far more expres- 
sive of our deepest feelings than any words can be. 

Perkins came back presently with the other party, 
of whom he had been in search. 

“We mustn’t be losin’ time,” he said. “We ’ve 
got tu build a raft tu git intu the swamp on, an’ there ’s 
no tollin’ how much we ’ll be hendered. So le’ ’s git 
down tu bisness.” 

“ Luck go with you,” cried Nannie, as the party set off. 

Dick’s kiss was warm upon her cheek. He had 
kissed Rhoda, too, and she was so happy that she never 
thought of being jealous over it. But as the men 
passed out of sight among the alders fringing the 
creek’s banks, a fear of what might take place in the 
Big Swamp, if they failed to find the real thieves, 
came over her, and made her faint and dizzy. The 
danger was not over. 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


395 


“ I shall not breathe one easy breath till they 're all 
back home,” she said to Rhoda. “ Isn’t it awful ? And 
to happen in camp-meeting time, too !” 

“ I think I 've got even with Mr. Wayne now,” said 
Rhoda, as they turned to retrace their steps homeward. 
“ I ’ve spoiled his plans completely, and I ’ve done a 
good turn for Dick. I never heard of such a thing, out- 
side of a story. I wonder if it is all so ? Pinch me, 
Nannie, so that I ’ll know I ’m awake.” 

“ Yes, you ’re awake,” answered Nannie, “ and so am 
I, and so hungry and tired almost to death. I didn’t 
realize it till we ’d got started for home. Oh, dear ! It ’s 
a long way there yet. If we only had Doll and Nell to 
jide !” 




CHAPTER XXV. 

RETURN OF THE FAIR ADVENTURERS. 

As may readily be imagined, there was great con- 
sternation in the Boone household when the absence of 
Nannie and Rhoda was discovered, on Sunday morn- 
ing. 

Mrs. Boone had passed a somewhat sleepless night, 
and rose early. She busied herself getting breakfast, 
wondering, meanwhile, why Nannie did not come down 
as usual to help her. 

“ Poor gal ! I s’pose she was jest beat out with what 
happened las’ night,” thought her mother. “ I don’t 
wonder, nuther. I be, myself. I ’ll let ’em sleep till 
breakfas’ is reddy.” 

At last the meal was on the table, and she went to 
the ladder leading to the attic where Nannie and Rhoda 
were supposed to be asleep, and called : 

** Come, girls, time you was up. It ’s pas’ seven 
o’clock, an’ breakfas’ is reddy an’ waitin’. Be spry now. 
Mis’ Holdredge, air you up yit ?” 

Yes, Mrs. Holdredge, who had occupied the room 
belonging to Nannie, was up and dressed and came 
into the kitchen presently. 

“ I didn’t hear the girls a-stirrin’ after you ’d called 
'em,” she said. “It mus’ be they sleep sound this 
mornin’.” 

[396] 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


397 


Mrs. Boone went to the ladder and called again. 

No answer. 

“ It 's curi’s," she said. “ Nannie ain’t never hard to 
wake up.” 

She went up the ladder till she could see into the 
attic. 

No one was there. The bed had not even been 
slept in. 

Oh, Mis’ Holdredge, they ain’t here !” she cried. 
“ Did you hear ’em come in las’ night ?” 

No, Mrs. Holdredge had heard nothing of them. 

“ I do b’leeve they must ha’ stayed tu Ezry’s, after 
all,” said Mrs. Boone. I ’ll run right over ’n’ see. You 
set down an* be eatin’. Mis’ Holdredge, afore the vittles 
git cold. I ’ll be right back.” 

But inquiry at Mr. Porter’s failed to elicit any infor- 
mation regarding the whereabouts of the missing girls. 

“ Hain’t seen ’em sence about ten minutes after you 
an’ Miss Holdredge lef’ las’ night,” said Samanthy. 

Mus’ be they took it intu their heads to go tu 
Stevenses’, though what should possess ’em tu go there 
at that time o’ night I can’t see. You run right back 
home. Mis’ Boone, an’ I ’ll go over to the Stevenses’ an* 
see if they ’re there.” 

So Mrs. Boone returned, with dismal forebodings, 
while Samanthy started out on a search for the run- 
aways. 

“ Fust it ’s bosses they *re a-huntin’ an* then it ’s gals,” 
said Samanthy, with a shiver, as she looked toward the 
barn and thought of the dead man lying inside. “ Them 
words o’ the elder’s las’ night was awful comfortin’. 
He don’t think I was tu blame, an’ bein’ an elder, it 
seems *s ef he ought tu know, ef anybody.” 

The dew had fallen heavily, and Samanthy thought 
it advisable to go around by the main road rather than 


398 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


by the 'cross-lots path through the bushes. As she 
came to the forks where she was to turn she looked 
down the hill, and away at the foot of it she saw two 
females. 

“ Marcy on us !” she exclaimed. “ Can that be them ? 
It looks like ’em, fer sartin. What on airth ’d ’a’ took 
'em that way ? I '11 wait till they come up." 

She sat down on a log and waited. 

“ Fer the land’s sake, girls, where hev ye b’en ?’’ she 
shouted, as soon as they were within hearing distance. 

“ Hunting horse-thieves,’’ answered Nannie, who, 
though tired, was in the best of spirits. “ Everybody 
else had gone into that business, and we 'd thought we ’d 
see what we could do at it.” 

“Wall, I hope ye 've found 'em," said Samanthy. 

“We have," answered Nannie. “ That is, we know 
where they are, and the men have gone after them, and 
we expect they '11 get them. Oh, Samanthy, I’ve seen 
Dick, and if we hadn’t got there just as we did they 'd 
have hung him. They had him strung up over a limb 
when we got in sight." 

“ O Lord ! You scare me !” cried Samanthy. 

“ Well, it 's a fact, isn’t it, Rhoda ?’’ said Nannie. 

Rhoda corroborated her statement. Then Nannie 
went on to tell what I have already told the reader. 

“The hand o' the Lord is in it," said Samanthy, 
solemnly. “ Praise His holy name." 

Rhoda wondered if Samanthy wasn’t going to “ get 
the power." 

About nine o’clock Mrs. Boone looked out and 
startled Mrs. Holdredge with the announcement that 
“ Samanthy 'd got ’em." 

“I was almost sure they 'd been stole, ’long with 
the bosses," she said, and began to cry. And the re- 
turning wanderers found her in tears. 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


399 


Again their story had to be told, to a running ac- 
companiment of “ O Lords !” and “ For the Ian’s sake !” 
and ** Who ’d ’a’ thought it ?” from Mrs. Boone and 
Mrs. Holdredge. 

“See here,” said Samanthy. “Not a word o' this 
mus’ git to the singin ’-teacher. Ef it does he ’ll be a 
li’tin’ out afore the men git back.” 

It was agreed that not a word of what had been 
done should be told to any one. 

This compact having been enforced by repeated 
cautions on her part, Samanthy went back home. 

“Where was they?” asked Mrs. Porter. 

“ I jest got to the forks o’ the road when I see ’em 
a-comin’,” was Samanthy’s reply. “ It ’s curi's how 
gals will act, a skylarkin’ ’round nights, when they 
orter be abed. Ef they was my gals I ’d I’arn ’em 
suthin’ they ’d be likely to remember a spell.” 

Wayne was listening for her answer to Mrs. Por- 
ter’s question. 

“ There ! I wonder if you can make anything out 
o’ that ?” said Samanthy, with a glance in his direc- 
tion. “ Ef you can ye ’re welcome to.” 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

WAYNE GETS HIS DESERTS. , 

The attendance at camp-meeting on Sabbath morn- 
ing was much smaller than it had been on the day be- 
fore, there being but few men present, but what it 
lacked in numbers it made up in zeal. 

“ I ’m determined to do what I can to make this a 
day long to be remembered in all the region round 
about,” said the elder, to Samanthy. “ I want you all 
to help me,” he told the friends who gathered about 
him wheii he came upon the camp-grounds. “ Let us 
pray for a shower of grace, brothers and sisters, a good 
big shower of it, and not a little sprinkling.” 

The first exercises of the morning were a “ love- 
feast.” Have any of my readers ever attended one ? 
It is a meeting in which all rise and speak freely, tell- 
ing of their hopes and determinations, and testifying 
of the help and comfort that religion had been to them. 
It lacks the formality of class meeting, in which each 
person is expected to speak, and is called on to do so. 
It is a free, unurged expression of the religious nature, 
and has social spontaneity in all its utterances, which 
makes those who take part in it feel at ease and among 
friends. It binds strangers together by one common 
tie of faith, and is full of helpful influences. To be- 
[400] 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


401 


lieving souls it is indeed a “ feast ” from which they 
arise refreshed and strengthened. 

Deacon Snyder delivered a most powerful exhorta- 
tion to the unrepentant and back-slidden, as a proper 
winding-up of the love-feast, and then the more formal 
exercises of the day began. 

Mrs. Boone and Samanthyand the two girls remained 
at home during the morning exercises. They were in 
too nervous a condition to feel like attending this meet- 
ing until the result of the meeting which had probably 
taken place in the Big Swamp was known. 

Mr. Wayne seemed thoughtful and preoccupied as he 
made his morning toilet, preparatory to fulfilling his 
duty as leader of the singing. 

“Ef he on’y knew what I know,” Samanthy kept 
saying to herself, as she watched him as furtively as a 
cat watches a mouse. “ Ef he did, I ’ll bet he wouldn’t 
feel like putterin’ ’round with that neck-hank’cher o’ 
his’n. He ’d be a-thinkin’ e’ the neck-tie that ’s waitin’ 
fer him.” 

And then, when she realized that it was not only 
possible, but altogether probable, that this man would 
be hanging by his neck, dead^ before the day was 
done, she felt a great thrill of horror going over her, 
and wanted to run away somewhere and hide. 

When he had gone to camp-meeting she put on her 
sunbonnet and ran over to Mrs. Boone’s, to wait, with 
the women there, for the return of the men from the 
swamp. 

It seemed as if the forenoon would never end. First 
one and then another would run to the door to see if 
they were coming. 

It was about twelve o’clock when a party of grim 
and determined-looking men halted near the edge of 
the grove in which the camp-meeting was held. Their 


402 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


clothes were torn and stained with the black soil of the 
swamp. Their faces had a tense, strained expression 
in them, along with a look that told they had accom- 
plished a purpose which had hitherto been baffled. 

The sound of singing came to them, blown across 
the forest by the soft, south wund. Distinctly above all 
other voices could be heard Wayne’s in the old hymn : 

, There is a fountain filled with blood, 

Drawn from Immanuel’s veins. 

And sinners plunged beneath that flood 
Lose all their guilty stains. 

The dying thief rejoiced to see 
That fountain in his day. 

And there may I, though vile as he, 

Wash all my sins away.” 

There’ s suthin’ quite appropriate about the dyin’ 
thief,” one of the men said. “ He wouldn’t feel like 
singing hymns ef he knew what our arrand w’^as.” 

“ S’posen you call him out. Bill Green,” said Speers. 
“ Du it kinder slick, so ’s as not to make any fuss, ef ye 
can help it. We don’t want to ’starb the meetin’.” 

Bill Green made his way across the woods to the 
camp-meeting grounds. The hymn was just concluded, 
and Wayne was sitting among his scholars, cool and 
quiet, and seemingly as much at ease as ever in his 
life. 

“Have you found out anything?” the men and 
women kept asking Bill, as he passed them. But he 
did not stop to answer them. He went up to Wayne 
and touched him on the shoulder. 

“You ’re wanted,” he said. 

Wayne looked at him with a perceptibly paling 
face. 

“Who wants me.>” he asked, 
for ?” 


“ What am I wanted 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


403 


** Come out where we won’t be pestered by folks 
askin’ questions, an’ I ’ll explain to ye,” said Bill. 

Wayne looked keenly at Bill, but he could make out 
nothing from his scrutiny. Mr. Green’s face was as 
unreadable as that of the Sphinx. 

They joined the men who were waiting at the edge 
of the grove. 

Good morning, gentlemen,” said Wayne. “ Have 
you found any traces of the horse-thieves yet ?” 

“Yes, we have,” was the reply, and the speaker 
looked him straight in the eye. 

“Ah!” Wayne’s face lost its color, and his voice 
sounded hard and tense. “ Where are they ?” 

“ Four of ’em are under ground,” was the reply. 
“ An’ the fifth has been reddy to put under ever sence 
las’ night. Two on ’em died with bullet holes thru’ ’em, 
an’ three with ropes ’round their necks.” 

Wayne was ghastly white now. He knew that they 
were telling him the truth. 

He gave one swift glance to left and right. .In an 
instant his plan of escape was formed. He sprang 
toward the woods. Once in it he might succeed in 
getting away. It was his only chance. 

But they had been on the lookout for something of 
this kind, and he felt himself in the grasp of strong 
hands before he had taken a dozen steps. 

“ Y’ can’t come that on us,” said Bill Green. “Y’ ’ve 
stole all the bosses an’ kep’ all the singin’-schools y’ 
ever will. There ’s a tree b’en a- waitin’ fer ye years, 
down in the Big Swamp.” 

Wayne made one more wild and desperate effort to 
break away from his captors, but in vain. He was in 
a grasp of iron. 

Ten minutes later he was being hurried toward the 
Big Swamp. 


404 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


The pallor of his face was frightful, but he said not 
a word after being satisfied that it was useless for him 
to try to escape. 

At the junction of the swamp and high land they 
met the men who had remained behind to bring out 
the horses. 

Dick was one of this party. He started when he 
saw Wayne in the same situation he had been in but 
a few hours before, and turned away, sick at heart. 
He had seen three men dangling from the limb of an 
old cypress, that morning, and he could not get rid of 
the horrible sight. 

“We 're a-goin’ to take him to that place we see, 
when we was a-goin’ down, where the ol’ tree is with 
the limb stickin out as ef ’t was a-waitin’ fer suthin’ tu 
be hung on it. Will you come back with us or wait here ?” 

“ We ’ll wait here,” the men in charge of the horses 
decided. 

Bill Green unsnapped a small chain from Nell’s 
bridle. It was five or six feet long, and had been used 
in place of a halter. 

“ We ’ll use this,” he said, “ an’ we ’ll leave it as we 
use it.” 

Then they went on down the creek with the doomed 
man between them, and not a word was spoken until 
they reached the island where the old cedar grew, grim 
and gray, and gnarled into fantastic shapes, with long 
wreaths of moss hanging to its branches, and swaying 
slowly in the dumb wind which blew about the lone- 
some spot. 

“ Number One,” said Bill Green, like a judge passing 
sentence of death on a murderer, as they paused be- 
neath the outstretched arm of the old cedar, “ it is 
purty nigh all over with ye in this world. Hev y’ any- 
thing to say ? Ef ye hev, say it now.” 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


405 


Do what you ’re going to do, and have done with 
it,” answered Wayne, through ashen lips. And that 
was all. 

The chain was fastened about his neck, and some of 
the men lifted him up while one climbed on the old 
limb and secured the fatal links about it. 

“ Ready ?” asked Bill Green, hoarsely. 

“ Aye, all ready,” was the reply. 

And then — 

* * ***** 

They turned away as silently as they had come, and 
left the leader of the league of six swinging from the 
old cedar, whose fate it was to bear that horrible 
burden, a ghastly, frightful record of frontier venge- 
ance. 

******* 

“ Oh, mother, they ’re coming at last !” cried Nannie. 

“ Be they all there ?” asked Mrs. Boone, faintly. 

‘‘ Yes, they ’re all there,” answered Nannie. “ Father 
and Uncle Ezra and Nell and Doll — and Dick !** 

** Hooray ! Three cheers for Dick Brayton !” shouted 
the men, as they caught sight of the women. 

The Sabbath quiet was broken by three hearty^ 
ringing cheers which echoed far and wide, and were 
heard at the camp-meeting ground, telling everybody 
there that the horse-thieves had* been found at last. 

“ Oh, Dick,” cried Nannie, throwing herself into his 
arms, and caring nothing if all the world saw and heard 
her, “ I used you shamefully ! I ’m sorry for it ! If 
you can forgive me — ” 

“ I can forgive anything and everybody,” he said, 
and made the assertion emphatic with a kiss. 

That night the camp-meeting was a wonderful suc- 
cess. The excitement of the last few hours had pre- 
pared the way for a state of feeling calculated to make 


406 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


any camp-meeting successful, and those who had 
hunted horse-thieves went into religious work with 
heart and soul. 

Deacon Snyder exhorted with peculiar power, bring- 
ing in frequent allusions to his stolen horses, which 
Providence had seen fit to restore to him, and the re- 
sult of the exhortation was that Bill Green, whose 
“ convictions ” had been in a state of suspension since 
last night, took up the matter where he had left it 
when he turned out to look for Mr. Boone’s horses, and 
was converted. 

“ An’ he was converted good an’ strong, too,” Deacon 
Snyder used to say, in after years, when relating the 
events of this memorable camp-meeting. He never 
ceased to look upon Bill as a star in his crown — a 
brand he had plucked from the burning. 

Samanthy finally overcame her “ baptis’ ” scruples, 
and got up in meeting and “ told her experience,” to 
which she added a supplement, narrating the trouble 
she could not get rid of because of what she had done 
on Saturday night. 

The elder got up when she sat down, and said that 
he felt, for one, as if she had done nothing to be sorry 
for. In his opinion, she had done just right. The 
Lord would surely punish the transgressor, and some- 
times he made men dnd women his agents. She had 
been merely an agent in the hands of the Lord in His 
punishment of this sinner. That was all, and she had 
no right to feel like grieving over it. In his opinion, 
she had more right to be proud of having been selected 
as His agent in the matter. And he believed that 
every person in the hearing of his voice agreed with 
him. 

In response to this public vindication of her act, such 
a chorus of “ Yes, Lord !” and “ Amen !” went up from 


THE SWAMP SECRET. 


407 


the crowd that Samanthy’s heart was eased of its 
burden. And so g“ratefiil was she to the minister that 
she married him, six months later, and was ever after- 
ward known in •Brownsville as the “ presidin’ elder’s 
wife.” 

******* 

I was in Brownsville last summer. Stopping over 
night with one of its c>ld residents, I took the oppor- 
tunity to make some inquiries. 

“ Du I know the Braytons ?” exclaimed the old lady 
of whom I asked my questions. Sh’d say I did ! 
Why, Mis’ Bray ton — she that used to be Nancy Boone 
— she lived not more than a mile from where I did, 
when I was a gal, an’ we ’ve alius know’d each other — 
bro’t right up together, so to speak. Right smairt 
fam’ly, them Braytons. Nancy’s oldest son, he ’s a 
preacher, an’ he ’s married to a da’ter o’ Rhody Hol- 
dredge’s, she that used to be Rhody Stevens. The 
other boys, they ’re smairt as steel-traps, an’ she ’s got 
a da’ter that ’s the pear test gal in all these pairts. 
Know the Braytons ? He, he ! Ruther reckon I do.” 


THE END. 



An Excellent New Novel. 


INVISIBLE HANDS. 


AFTER THE GERMAN OF ' 

F. VON ZOBELTITZ, 

BY 

S. E. BOGGS, 

Translator of The Little Countess f etc, 

WITH JLUSTRATI0N8 BY JAMES FAGAN. 

12mo. 372 Padres. Handsomely Bound in Cloth. Price, $1.25. 

Paper Cover, 60 Cents. 


This is a most excellent novel. The incidents are natural and 
probable, although uncommon ; and the admirable plot is based 
on transactions in Berlin and in Italy, both German and Italian 
characters figuring in it. It is rare that anything so powerful and 
dramatic comes to us in the form of German fiction. The story 
is intensely interesting, constantly gaining as new characters and 
fresh incidents are introduced in the working-out of the plot. 
The character of the Italian lawyer is worthy of the times of 
of Machiavelli. It presents a lovely picture of German family 
life, and the female characters represent all that is charming in 
girlhood and womanhood. This is a novel which everybody can 
read with pleasure and profit. 

For sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, 
on receipt of price, by the publishers, 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

Cor. William and Spruce Streets, New York. 


Yet She Loved Him, 

By Mrs. Kate Vaughn, 

AND 

Jephthah’s Daughter, 

By Julia Magruder, 

Author of **A Magnificent Plebeian f ‘‘At Anchor f 
“Ho7iored in the Breachf etc. 


With Illustrations by Warren B. Davis. 


12mo. 339 Pagres. Handsomely Boimd in Cloth. Price, $1.00. 

Paper Cover, 60 Cents. 


‘‘Yet She Loved Him” is a popular and sensational story 
of English life. It has many elements of interest, and wilf 
please all readers to whom a good story is the principal thing 
in a novel. Miss Magruder’s novelette, “ Jephthah’s Daughter,” 
which is appended, is of a distinctly higher character. It is 
based upon the Biblical narrative, and is written in a style 
peculiarly appropriate to the subject, and full of beauty. The 
story is a brilliant piece of work. Nothing which Miss Magruder 
has written exhibits greater literary ability or more sustained 
power. 

For sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, 
on receipt of price, by the publishers, 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

Cor. William and Spruce Streets, New York, 


A Novel by Fanny Lewald. 


The Mask of Beauty. 

AFTER THE GERMAN OF 

Fanny Lewald, 

BY 

Mary M. Pleasants. 

With Dlustrations by F. A. Carter. 

12mo. 340 Pagres. Handsomely Bound in Cloth. Price, $1.00. 

Paper Cover, 50 Cents. 


Fanny Lewald is one of the most celebrated writers of Ger- 
many. Her books have enjoyed great popularity, but few of them 
have been translated into English. This is a story of Hela, a 
peninsula jutting out into the Baltic Sea, of which Dantzig is the 
principal town. The maid of Hela is a poor orphan, whose rare 
beauty is the cause of her many trials. She is bred in a fishing 
village among a superstitious people, full of curiosity, and isolated 
From her neighbors by reason of her parentage and religion. The 
story is a minute and realistic study of character, manners and 
customs of an out-of-the-way corner of the world. The extra- 
ordinary beauty of the girl Catherine, whose life history is nar- 
rated, is made the cause of every important situation and the 
final tragedy of the novel. Nothing can be finer than the patient 
and loving art with which the author has developed her subject, 
and exhibited beauty as the mask of a pure and beautiful soul 
unconscious of the dangerous possession. 

For sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, 
on receipt of price, by the publishers, 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

Cor. William and Spruce Streets, New York. 


A New Novel by the Author of “ In the China 5ea.” 


Two Gentlemen 

of Hawaii 

BY 

5eward W. Hopkins, 

Author of the China Sea^' etc* 

With Illustrations by M. Colin. 

12mo. 244 Pagres. Handsomely Bound in Cloth. Price, $1.00. 

Paper Cover, 60 Cents. 


This novel deals with the revolution in the Hawaiian Islands. 
It takes the part of the revolutionists. It gives a complete 
account of the exciting events, beginning with the deposition of 
Queen Liliuokalani, the institution of the provisional government 
under President Dole and the offer of the islands to the United 
States. It is a thrilling picture of a period of intrigue, danger 
and revolutionary violence. Most of the characters are Ameri- 
cans concerned in the revolution, and the story is written from 
the point of view of a partisan who believes that the peace and 
prosperity of the islands are bound up with the new movement. 
It is a lively and interesting tale, full of sensation, with a vivid 
picture of the scenery and life of the islands and of the fatal 
malady with which the natives are afflicted. ‘The terrors of lep- 
rosy are described. The superstitions of the Islanders and the 
volcanic eruptions on the Island of Lanai form a tragic back- 
ground to the story. At the present time, when public attention 
is engaged by the events transpiring in these islands, this novel 
has an especial attractiveness. 

For sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, 
on receipt of price, by the publishers, 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

Gor. William and Spruce Streets, New York. 


V A Story of the French Revolution 


The Shadow of 

the Guillotine. 

( 

BY 

Sylvanus Cobb, Jr., 

Author of “ The Gunmaker of Moscow'' “ The 
Outcast of Milan^' "'‘Blanche of 
Burgundy^' etc.^ etc. 

With Illustrations by WaiTen B. Davis. 

12mo. 429 Fa«:es. Handsomely Bound in Cloth. Price, $1.00. 

Paper Cover, 60 Cents. 


This is an interesting and thrilling novel. Like all of Mr. 
Cobb’s works, it is interesting as a story from the beginning, 
dealing with historical scenes and events of one of the most ex- 
citing epochs of modern times. The French Revolution was the 
first great outbreak of the people against hereditary power and 
privilege. The ideas of liberty and equality and government by 
the people, which were its active principle, were obscured and 
caricatured in the sanguinary tumult and riot into which the 
movement degenerated under the leadership of Robespierre and 
his companions. Through this tempest of fire and blood Mr. 
Cobb takes his readers, and fastens their attention while portray- 
ing the charming and manly characters whose story he tells. The 
thousands who have read “ The Gunmaker of Moscow ” will en- 
joy this novel. 

For sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent postpaid 
on receipt of price by the publishers, 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

Cor. William and Spruce Streets, New York. 


story of a French Millionaire. 


Mystery of Hotel Brichet. 


AFTER THE FRENCH OP 

Eugene Chavette. 


With Illustrations by James Fag^an* 


12mo. 858 Fagres. Handsomely Bound in Cloth. Price, $1.00. 

Paper Cover, 60 Cents. 


This is a French novel the scene of which is Paris of the last 
century. The great robber Cartouche on his trial betrays his 
associates, and it is through one implicated by his testimony that 
the author introduces the history of the House of Brichet. Truth 
is said to be stranger than fiction, but the story of the galley- 
slave who escapes from Toulon to figure as the possessor of mil- 
lions in the capital of France will compare favorably with anything 
that ever happened in the world of reality. It is seldom that a 
novel filled with exciting incidents is so entirely consistent from 
beginning to end and which gains in interest as the plot develops. 
The novel has something of the spirit and “ go ” of Alexander 
Dumas’s famous guardsman series, the most amusing character 
being a guardsman, a swordsman and a duelist. 

For sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent postpaid 
on receipt of price by the publishers, 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

Cor. William and Spruce Streets, New York. 


An Historical Novel, 


■\ 


Blanche of Burgundy. 

BY 

Sylvanus Cobb, Jr., 

Author of “ The Gunmaker of Moscow f etc. 


With Illustrations by H. M. Eaton. 


12mo. 4i9 Fag-es. Handsomely Bound in Cloth. Price, $1.00. 

Paper Cover, 60 Cents. 


Blanche of Burgundy ” is a novel based upon incidents and 
scenes of a most interesting period of French history. It is the 
time of Charles the Ninth. The realm is divided into twelve great 
baronies or fiefs, the heads of which are princes almost independ- 
ent, owing military service and tribute to their sovereign. Charles 
has departed from France on the great mission of the Crusaders 
to rescue Palestine from the Moslem. The Duke of Burgundy, 
father of Blanche, is about to embark with his army for Egypt to 
join the king, but, before doing so, he awaits the marriage of his 
daughter, the beautiful Blanche, to Gregory of Franche Comte. 
The latter proves a difficult subject, and the complications which 
ensue make a highly interesting novel. 

F or sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent postpaid 
on receipt of price by the publishers, 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

Cor. William and Spruce Streets, New York. 


A Fresh German Translation. 


THE OPPOSITE HOUSE. 


AFTER THE GERMAN OF - 

Nataly von Eschstruth, 

Author of A finest ess of Comedy f A Prin- 
cess of the Stage f ''Her Little Highness f 
" Countess Dynarf etc,^ etc. 

With Illustrations hy H. M. Eaton. 


12zao. 282 Pag-es. Handsomely Bound in Clotli. Price, $1.00. 
Paper Cover, 50 Cents. 


Nataly von Eschstruth’s latest novel is a romantic love story, 
full of interesting situations, diversity of character and thrilling 
episodes, all subsidiary to a well-constructed and carefully devel- 
oped plot. The heroine is a lovely countess pf proud and an- 
cient family. The hero of the story is a manufacturer and 
belongs to the trading class, which in Germany -is distinctly 
below the nobility. He throws up his business and takes an 
active part in the Franco-German War, and on the field of battle 
shows that there is quite as much nobility in the Prince of the 
]\lill as in the titular princes of the court. We withhold the cli- 
max of the story, not wishing to dull the appetite and enjoyment 
of the reader. This forms one of the best volumes in the 
Ledger Library series of German translations. 

For sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent postpaid 
on receipt of price by the publishers, 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

Cor. William and Spruce Streets, New York. 


s. 


Mrs. Barr’s New Novel. 


The Flower of Gala Water. 


BY 

Amelia E. Barr, 

Author of" Girls of a Feather” “ The Bow of 
Orange Ribbony' • Frie^id Oliviay' The 
Beads of TasmeVy' “ The Mate of the 
'Easter Bellf "Mrs. Barrs 
Short Stories y' etc.y etc. 

With Illustrations by Charles Kendrick. 

12mo. 400 Pag-es. Handsomely Bound in Cloth. Uniform with 

Qirls of a Feather.’’ Price, $1.26. Paper Cover, 50 Cents. 


The Flower of Gala Water ” is one of Mrs. Barr’s most de- 
lightful novels of Scottish life and scenery. In her portrayal 
of Scotch character and manners she has no superior among 
contemporary writers. Her heroines are vital with love and fem- 
inine qualities, and possess an individuality which is charming. 
They have the freshness of youth and health, and impart to her 
pages their own attractiveness. Mrs. Barr’s fine sentiment and 
vigor of conviction have ample expression in her latest novel. 
No one can read it without having every noble feeling vitalized 
and exalted. It is this moral quality which renders “ The Flower 
of Gala Water ” a book to be placed in the hands of every boy 
and every girl. 

For sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent postpaid 
on receipt of price by the publishers, 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

Cor. William and Spruce Streets, New York. 


i THE CHOICE SERIES. 


No. AND Title. 


Author. 


C 1 . 0 T 11 . Tapeu, 


lA Mad Betrothal 

ilenrv 31. Stanley 

iller Double Lil'e 

Unknown 

'Vhe tiiuniiiaker of 31 ohcow..- 

i^ibiud 3[orton 

'JUie Hidden Hand 

Sundered Hearts 

ifThe Stone-Cutter of Idsbon.. 

(j;<ady Kildare 

tJrls Bock 

Nearest an<l Dearest. 

^Fhe Bailiff’s Scheme 

•A Ueap in the Dark 

■’rhe DM I.ife’s Shadows 

'Hie Lost Lady of Lone 

lone 

ffor Woman’s Love 

.•Cesar Birotteau 

'Fhe Baroness Blank 

'Parted by Fate 

The Forsaken Inn 

Ottl ie Aster’s Silence 

Bdda’s Birthrit$ht 

'The Alchemist 

'Under Oath 

'Cousin Pons 

'The Unloved Wife 

, 'Lilith 

I 'Reunited 

hiltrs. Harold Staaa 

|-The Breach of Custom 

i-The Northern Liitlit 

-Beryl’s Husband 

-A Love 31atch 

I-A 3Ialter of Millions 

-Eugenie <Jrnn<let 

•-The Imnrovisntore 

I-Paoliy the Warrior Bishop. ■■ 

4r Under a Cloud 

j»Wiie and Woman 

An insignificant Woman 

The Carletons 

3Indemoiselle Desroches 

I- The Beads of Tasmer 

•' John Winihrop’s Defeat 

Little Heather- Blossom 

Hjiloria 

-David Iiin«lsay 

—The Little tJountess 

-The Chautanqnans 

i-The Two Husbands — 

b Mrs. Barr’s Short Stories 

We Parted at the Altar....... 

r-Was She Wife or Widow?... 

^T'he Country Doctor 

h-FIorabel’s Lover 

t— Lida Campbell 

Eilith Trevor’s Secret 

—Cecil Kosse — --11 

—Love Is Lord of All 

-True Daughter of Hartenstein 

—Zina’s Awaking...... 

— .^lorris Julian’s Wife 

— tlear Elsie... — 

t-The Hungarian Girl 

-^Beatrix Itohan 

HA Son of Old Harry. 

H Romance of Troiiville 

HLife of General Jackson 

.'Tlie Return of the 0’3Iahony. 
f-Reiiben Foreman, the Village 

I— Neva’s Three Lovers 

H“Em”..' ; 

Em’s ” Husband 




Laura Jean Libbey 

Henry Frederick Heddall 

Mrs. Harriet Lewis 

Mrs. E. D. K. N. Southwortb 

Sylvanus Cobb, Jr 

Major A. R. Calhoun 

Mrs. E. D. E. N. fcsouth worth 

Mrs. Harriet Lewis 

Prof. Wm. Henry Peck 

Mrs. Harriet Lewis 

Captain Mayne Reid 

Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth 

Mrs. Harriet Lewis 

Mrs. E. I). E. N. Southworth 

Mrs. Harriet Lewis. 

Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth 

Laura Jean Libhey 

Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth 

Honore De Balzac 

August Niemann 

Laura Jean Lihbey 

Anna Katharine Green 

Mrs. D. M. Lowrey 

Mrs. Harriet Lewis 

Honore De Balzac 

Jean Kate Lndlum 

Honore De Balzac 

Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth 

H it 

A Popular Southern Author 

Robert Grant 

Mrs. D. M. Lowiey. (Translator). 

E. Werner 

Mrs. Harriet Lewis 

Sylvanus Cobh, Jr 

Alina Katharine Green 

Honore De Balzac 

Hans Christian Andersen 

W. C. Kitchin 

Jean Kate Lndlum 

Mary J. SaflTord 

W. Heimhnrg.. 

Robert Grant 

Andre Theuriet : 

Mrs. Amelia E. Barr 

Jean Kate Lndlum 

MaryJ. Saftord. (Translator).... 
Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth — 

(« a 

S. E. Boggs. (Translator) 

John Hahberton 

Mrs. Harriet Lewis 

Mrs. Amelia E. Barr 

l^aura Jean Libhey 

Malcolm Bell 

Honore De Balzac 

liaura Jean Libhey 

Jean Kate Imdlum 

Mrs. Harriet Lewis 

<< H 

From the German 

Mrs. J. Kent Spender 

Elizabeth Clmis 

From the German 

it »« 

Mrs. Harriet Lewis 

Albion W. Tourgee 

Brehat 

Oliver Dyer 

Harold Frederic 

Blacksmitli. Darley Dale 

Mrs. Harriet Lewis 

Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth.... 

it << ** 


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THE CHOICE SERIES-Continued 


No. AND Title. 


Author 


Cloth. P 


76 

77- 

78- 
79 
80- 
81 
82- 
83 
84- 

85 

86 

87- 

88 - 
89- 

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107- ' 

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1 12 - 
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116- 

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121 - 
122 - 


-The Haunted liunband 

-The fSiberinii Exiles 

-The Spanish Treasure 

-The Kin^ of Honey Island . - 
-Mate of the Easter Bell”.. 

-The Child of the Parish 

-Miss Mischief 

-The Honor of a Heart 

-Transgressina the l^aw 

-Hearts and Coronets 

-Tressilinn Court 

-fJiiy Tressilian’s Fate 

-Mynheer Joe 

-The Froler Case 

-A Priestess of Comedy 

-.\ll or Nothing 

-A Skeleton in the Closet 

-Brandon Coyle’s \\ ife 

-Love 

-The Tell-Tale Watch 

-Hetty; or the Old Grudge — 

-Girls of a Feather 

-Apnassionata 

-Only a Girl’s Heart 

-The llejected Bride 

-Gertrude Haddon 

-Countess Dynar, or Polish Blood. 

-A Sleep- Walker 

-A liover From Across the Sea and 

-.4 Princess of the Stn8:e 

Countess Obemau 

The Giin- Bearer 

Wooina a Widow 

Her Little Highness 

In the China Sea. 

Invisible Hands.. 

■Yet She Ijoved Him. 

■The Mask of Beauty 

Two Gentlemen of Hawaii.. 

■The Shadow of the Guillotine 

Mystery of Hotel Brichet 

■Blanche of Biiranndy 

■The Opposite House 

■The Flower of Gala Water.. 

-For Another’s Wrong 

On a False (Charge. .". 

■A Treasure Found— A Bride Won 


Mrs. Harriet Lewis 

Col. Thomas W. Knox 

Elizabeth C. Winter 

Maurice Thompson 

Mrs. Amelia E. Barr 

Marie von Ebner-Eschenbach . . . •. 

W. Heimburg ; 

From the German 

Capt, Frederick Whittaker 

Jane G. Fuller 

Mrs. Harriet Lewis 

8t. George Rathbome 

From the French by H. O. Cooke. 

Nataly von Eschstruth 

Count Nepomuk Czapski 

Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth 

<< ti .«( 

Honore De Balzac 

From the German 

J. H. Connelly 

Mrs. Amelia E. Barr 

Elsa D’Esterre-Keelinsr 

Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth 

, ti H tt 

it it <i 

Nataly von Eschstruth 

Paul H. Gerrard 

Other Stories. E. Werner 

Nataly von Eschstruth 

Julien Gordon 

E. A. Robinson and G. A. Wall... 

Ewald August Koenig. 

Nataly von Eschstruth 

Seward W. Hopkins 

F. von Zobeltitz 

Mrs. Kate Vaughn 

Fanny Lewald 

Seward W. Hopkins 

SylvanusCobb, Jr 

F.ugene Chavette 

Sylvanus Cobb, Jr 

Nataly von Eschstruth 

Mrs. Amelia E. Barr 

W. rieinunirg 

Seward W. Hopk ns 

George E. Gardner 


$ 1.00 

2.00 

1.00 

1.50 

1.25 

1.00 

1.50 

1.00 

1.00 

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1 

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I 

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Every Number Beautifully Illustrated. 


ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 


Publishers, 

Cor. William and Spruce Sts., New York Cit; 
















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